Charles Dickens Quotes

We forget all too soon the things we thought we could never forget.

When you do a movie, you don't know when it's going to come out. In a year, you forget about it.

And we forget because we must and not because we will.

People say you never remember anybody who dies in movies, and it's true, you don't. You don't even remember people who disappear.

Before we are forgotten, we will be turned into kitsch. Kitsch is the stopover between being and oblivion.

The stream of thought flows on; but most of its segments fall into the bottomless abyss of oblivion. Of some, no memory survives the instant of their passage. Of others, it is confined to a few moments, hours or days. Others, again, leave vestiges which are indestructible, and by means of which they may be recalled as long as life endures.

The pen will never be able to move fast enough to write down every word discovered in the space of memory. Some things have been lost forever, other things will perhaps be remembered again, and still other things have been lost and found and lost again. There is no way to be sure of any this.

Man passes away; his name perishes from record and recollection; his history is as a tale that is told, and his very monument becomes a ruin.

One is alone when the last one who remembers is gone.

Great Time makes all things dim.

People are machines of forgetfulness

There is no remembrance which time does not obliterate, nor pain which death does not terminate.

When they're gone out of his head, these words, they'll be gone, everywhere, forever. As if they had never been.

The sands of time are quicksands ... so much can sink into them without a trace.

Who knows whither the clouds have fled? In the unscarred heaven they leave no wake; And the eyes forget the tears they have shed, The heart forgets its sorrow and ache.

Do we soon forget the things we cannot see?

And though I remember her name I cannot recall her face. All things pass.

Let it be forgotten, as a flower is forgotten, Forgotten as a fire that once was singing gold, Let it be forgotten forever and ever, Time is a kind friend, he will make us old.

we travel far and fast and as we pass through we forget where we have been

I spend all my time trying to keep thoughts away and ignore them....But here you are, trying to remember your own life, writing your thoughts down so that you don't forget. I suddenly realized what it would be like not to know, not to remember.

...and down they forgot as up they grew.

Kisses honeyed by oblivion.

The name of the author is the first to go followed obediently by the title, the plot, the heartbreaking conclusion, the entire novel which suddenly becomes one you have never read, never even heard of, as if, one by one, the memories you used to harbor decided to retire to the southern hemisphere of the brain, to a little fishing village where there are no phones.