Sarah Dessen Quotes

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

It’s difficult to ever go back to the same places or people. You turn away, even for a moment, and when you turn back around, everything’s changed.

She stood beside me for years, or was it a moment? I cannot remember. Maybe I loved her, maybe I didn't. There was a house, and then no house. There were trees, but none remain. When no one remembers, what is there? You, whose moments are gone, who drift like smoke in the afterlife, tell me something, tell me anything.

Like it takes so little not only to change something, but to make you forget the way it once was, as well.

The things that have come into being change continually. The man with a good memory remembers nothing because he forgets nothing.

The world changes too fast. You take your eyes off something that's always been there, and the next minute it's just a memory.

Everything ends, people move on, they don't look back. It's how they should be.

It is all falling indelibly into the past.

How those fires burned that are no longer, how the weather worsened, how the shadow of the seagull vanished without a trace. Was it the end of a season, the end of a life? Was it so long ago it seems it might never have been? What is it in us that lives in the past and longs for the future, or lives in the future and longs for the past? (from "No Words Can Describe It")

This house sheltered us, we spoke, we loved within those walls. That was yesterday. To-day we pass on, we see it no more, and we are different, changed in some infinitesimal way. We can never be quite the same again.

They would grow old. They would forget me.

This is the time to remember cause it will not last forever. These are the days to hold onto cause we won't although we'll want to.

By the time I recognize this moment, this moment will be gone. . . But I will bend the light, pretend that it somehow lingered on

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

It's about moments in life that are great but don't last. They don't go on, but you always have the memory and they have an effect on you. That's what I was thinking about.

The shimmering night does not stay for mortals, not misfortunes, nor wealth, but in a moment it is gone, and to the turn of another comes joy and loss.

I was sand, I was snow—written on, rewritten, smoothed over.

Things happen once only and are never repeated, never return. Except in memory.

All things are taken from us, and become Portions and parcels of the dreadful past.

The results would have stayed on the watch face until the batteries died. But trying to make time stand still this way would have been a mistake. It is just as important to erase times eventually as to save them at first.

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

But where are the snows of yester year?

To feel today what one felt yesterday isn't to feel - it's to remember today what was felt yesterday, to be today's living corpse of what yesterday was lived and lost.

Time flies over us, but leaves its shadow behind.