Jenny Han Quotes

It wasn't that I forgot Hanna. But at a certain point the memory of her stopped accompanying me wherever I went. She stayed behind, the way a city stays behind as a train pulls out of the station. It's there, somewhere behind you, and you could go back and make sure of it. But why should you?

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

We bury love; Forgetfulness grows over it like grass: That is a thing to weep for, not the dead.

The things which I have seen I now can see no more.

I rarely think about my childhood. It's a slippery thing I can't keep hold of for long - it slithers out of my grasp. And a lot of the time I remember what was missing instead of what was there. I am a chronicler of absence.

I didn't realize it, but the days came along one after another, and then two years were gone, and everything was gone, and I was gone.

How important things had become, now that they were gone! I felt a sudden panic that I would soon forget everything.

The calendar has a magic that makes us imagine a memory can be resurrected and revived, but nothing returns.

But though first love's impassioned blindness Has passed away in colder light, I still have thought of you with kindness, And shall do, till our last goodnight. The ever-rolling silent hours Will bring a time we shall not know, When our young days of gathering flowers Will be an hundred years ago.

I no longer love her, that's certain, but maybe I love her. Love is so short, forgetting is so long.

Day by day and night by night we were together - all else has long been forgotten by me.

Remembering the ball became for Emma a daily occupation. Every time Wednesday came round, she told herself when she woke up: 'Ah! One week ago...two weeks ago...three weeks ago, I was there!' And, little by little, in her memory, the faces all blurred together; she forgot the tunes of the quadrilles; no longer could she so clearly picture the liveries and the rooms; some details disappeared, but the yearning remained.

O Time and change! - with hair as gray as was my sire's that winter day, how strange it seems, with so much gone of life and love, to still live on!

... the irony of life is not that you cannot forget but that you can.

I notice the silvery hair at his temples with a tinge of sadness. Why do parents grow old? Life is a castle of lies slowly dismantled by the passage of time. I regret not spending more time looking at the people I love.

The past is not a peaceful landscape lying there behind me, a country in which I can stroll wherever I please, and will gradually show me all its secret hills and dales. As I was moving forward, so it was crumbling. Most of the wreckage that can be seen is colourless, distorted, frozen: its meaning escapes me... all that's left is a skeleton. I shall never find my plans again, my hopes and fears - I shall not find myself.

July 13, 1954 was the most tragic day of my life. I had lost my beloved Frida forever. To late now I realized that the most wonderful part of my life had been my love for Frida.

It's true what they say: 'You don't appreciate what you've got until it's gone.' I miss love. I miss being looked after.

I shall soon be six-and-twenty. Is there anything in the future that can possibly console us for not being always twenty-five?

Once, I went speeding past an old couple and smiled as I imagined their conversation: him grumbling about me and her telling him not to be such an old grouch. Then, suddenly I was in tears, thinking, 'I'll never get to be a grumpy old grandpa!'

'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.

I tend to live in the past because most of my life is there.

I can't remember too much about the '80s, to be honest with you... I wish that weren't true, but it is.