Best 2915 quotes in «remember quotes» category

A feeling struck me one fine day that people call ‘love’, Before that my life was empty, all I had was loneliness and sorrow… I loved the way it felt being with him, for I felt up above, Now everything was complete and nothing remained hollow… That person who cupid made me fall for, was a God descended from heavens, I loved him with all I had, a true heart and a pure soul… I thought I achieved the meaning of life, never did I felt so glad, But when he left me amidst a chaos, I had no one with me to console… I cried, it hurt, I wept and screamed, everyone called me ‘mad’, And still I wonder if in my life, that actually was his role… But a string still binds me to my past of untold vow, Some unsaid promises that linger between us even now, Although I don’t know where he went after that fateful day… I still try to convince myself every day, I know how, Each moment has been tough, each day a new challenge… Each hour passed as if it was my heart that always allowed, One more day to live without him, one more day to cherish… One more day to spend without the love of my life somehow, But he doesn’t know that one day, the girl herself would perish… Who loved him and lived each day of her life in his wait, For the man who never returned, for the man who wasn’t in her fate…

A forest fire was making its way along the tinderbox ridges above them, flaring and shimmering against the overcast like the northern lights. Cold as it was he stood there a long time. The color of it moved something in him long forgotten. Make a list. Recite a litany. Remember.

Alex, please.” He balls his fists. “Stop saying my name. You don’t know me anymore.” “I do know you.” I’m still crying, swallowing back spasms in my throat, struggling to breathe. This is a nightmare and I will wake up. This is a monster-story, and he has come back to me a terror-creation, patched together, broken and hateful, and I will wake up and he will be here, and whole, and mine again. I find his hands, lace my fingers through his even as he tries to pull away. “It’s me, Alex. Lena. Your Lena. Remember? Remember 37 Brooks, and the blanket we used to keep in the backyard—” “Don’t,” he says. His voice breaks on the word. “And I always beat you in Scrabble,” I say. I have to keep talking, and keep him here, and make him remember. “Because you always let me win. And remember how we had a picnic one time, and the only thing we could find from the store was canned spaghetti and some green beans? And you said to mix them—” “Don’t.” “And we did, and it wasn’t bad. We ate the whole stupid can, we were so hungry. And when it started to get dark you pointed to the sky, and told me there was a star for every thing you loved about me.” I’m gasping, feeling as though I am about to drown; I’m reaching for him blindly, grabbing at his collar. “Stop.” He grabs my shoulders. His face is an inch from mine but unrecognizable: a gross, contorted mask. “Just stop. No more. It’s done, okay? That’s all done now.” “Alex, please—” “Stop!” His voice rings out sharply, hard as a slap. He releases me and I stumble backward. “Alex is dead, do you hear me? All of that—what we felt, what it meant—that’s done now, okay? Buried. Blown away.” “Alex!” He has started to turn away; now he whirls around. The moon lights him stark white and furious, a camera image, two-dimensional, gripped by the flash. “I don’t love you, Lena. Do you hear me? I never loved you.” The air goes. Everything goes. “I don’t believe you.” I’m crying so hard, I can hardly speak. He takes one step toward me. And now I don’t recognize him at all. He has transformed entirely, turned into a stranger. “It was a lie. Okay? It was all a lie. Craziness, like they always said. Just forget about it. Forget it ever happened.” “Please.” I don’t know how I stay on my feet, why I don’t shatter into dust right there, why my heart keeps beating when I want it so badly to stop. “Please don’t do this, Alex.” “Stop saying my name.

Always see the good in everyone...learn to see through God's eyes no matter what...remember, the tables may turn tomorrow. You just never know!

Always remember, animals can intimidate men with their strength but men cannot intimidate animals with their intelligence.

A ma vie de coer entier. Mon debut et ma fin. Se souvenir du passe, et qu'il ya un avenir. My whole heart for my whole life. With an alpha and an omega: my beginning and my end. Remember the past, and that there is a future.

Always take time to cherish every single moment you get, and always take a second to remind yourself how special that moment truly is and just how lucky you are to have it... remember that there is someone somewhere wishing it was their moment.

And I try to remember if this happened before, because this is a memory I would want to keep. But there is no echo of it in my mind.

Better to get off the train at this station. Than to do it later, when it's too late. Remember Time doesn't wait!

Bet you can't even name one romantic movie you like," she teased. She felt smug when a few minutes went by and Oliver was still unable to name one romantic movie he could profess to enjoy. The Empire Strikes Back," Oliver finally declared, tapping his horn at a Prius that wandered over the line. The Empire Strikes Back? The Star Wars movie? That's not romantic!" Schuyler huffed, fiddling with the air conditioner controls. Au contraire, my dear, it's very romantic. The last scene, you know, when they're about to put Han in that freezing cryogenic chamber or whatever? Remember?" Schuyler mmm-hmmmed. And Leia leans over the ledge and says, 'I love you.'" That's cheesy, not romatic," Schuyler argued, although she did like that part. Let me explain. What's romantic is what Han says back. Remember what he says to her? After she says 'I love you'?" Schuyler grinned. Maybe Oliver had a point. "Han says, 'I know.'" Exactly," Oliver tapped the wheel. "He doesn't have to say anything so trite as 'I love you." Because that's already understood. And that's romantic.

Amanda, you finally decided to answer the phone,” her mom exclaimed after picking up at the first ring. “Where’ve you been, what’ve you been up to?” “Mom, do you remember when I was a kid, I had a friend, he was a Personification of the Sydney Tar Ponds, sort of my imaginary friend?” Mandy asked. “No, what in the name of god are you on about?” her mom sighed in exasperation. “Remember? Only I could see him, but he was real and he was my best friend when I was eighteen?” Mandy insisted. “No, I don't remember Alecto Sydney Steele at all,” said her mom all too quickly.

And remember: the flesh is as sacred as it is profane.

A rain of feeling that we passed along the way, in the initial days. Do not easily forget what lies behind, but that moment you enter through that door and come to embrace me in the darkness, everything is made light, now for what we remember.

At last, you will not be remembered for roaming the earth as a non-entity, but by every word, and every miracle, and every love, and every seed that ever came from the innermost part of your heart.

At that darkest moment, while drowning in the Abyss of Emotional Bankruptcy, reflect on this universal truth: the difference between success and failure is one more time.

At the end of the day, you should try to remember that it's not about the number of followers you have or the numbers of likes, comments, and shares your posts are getting. It's the number of people who will be present in the hospital room when you fall terribly sick. It's the number of people who will remember your birthday like they remember their first name. It's the number of people who will invite you to celebrate Christmas or new year's eve. It's the number of people who will actually show up to look at your newborn child or to bless your newly bought house. It's the number of people who will actually cross an ocean to see your face. It's the number of people who will wipe your tears when one of your parents passes away. It's the number of people who will make a slightly larger than a thumb effort to be there for you.

At the edge you will always remember me, at the edge you will last be remembered, where sanity and insanity come together, for the time, then separates. Like leaves on October trees, that color the world, but for a moment, then leave. At the edge, where life losses its edginess, and thoughts we will become one, someday. At the edge the sun drops, the ring falls, and senses of raindrops climb upwards to the gray sky.

Audience can live without a movie but a movie cannot live without an audience.

Ax-man. Cardboard isn’t one of the major food groups, remember?”-Marco

Beautiful places are not just a joy for the moment, while you’re there. They will become homes for you, spaces of solace and comfort, where you can close your eyes and go to. Nothing you experience will ever go away. It belongs to you now. Just feel. Don’t be afraid to feel.

Be aware, sure and remember, love is itself a beauty and the beauty is the base and a place of love, but it is up to you how you describe and see the beauty with your heart. Maybe one would see and take something or someone as an ugly and any other one as a beauty. It depends on one's state of feelings.

Because stories are how we share our lives and what we truly mourn when they are lost. Stories are what connect us to our past and carry us to our future. They are what we cherish and what we remember.

Because the part of me that remembers what it was like all those lifetimes ago still cares for you .. loves you.

But I hope you don’t feel the hurt as much as I did. You are too weak and fragile to stand that ache. Remember, you always will be.

But as I began to write this book, I realised that without the whole truth my life would have no power, no real meaning. With the help of my mother, the memories of our lives in North Korea and China cane back to me like scenes from a forgotten nightmare. Some of the images reappeared with a terrible clarity; others were hazy, or scrambled like a deck of cards spilled on the floor. The process of writing has been the process of remembering, and of trying to make sense out of those memories.

Călătoria prin toate viețile noastre este o reamintire conștientă a tot ceea ce știm.

Does teacher spoil us?? Because I think that they spoil us, they say the answers and they want we to remember them.

But I am not allowed to forget The taste of the tears of yesterday.

Don’t forget, success is a product of choices. One of those choices is the willingness to make changes. Make changes and achieve your big dreams!

Don't forget, always, somewhere, someone is fighting for you. As long as you remember her, you are not alone.

...[E]ntertainment differs from art in that it manufactures experiences that cause us to forget, whereas art is preoccupied with creating experiences that allow us to remember.

Even if you forget, I will remember for the two of us.

Cruelty, whether physical or emotional, isn't normal. It may signal what psychologists call the dark triad of psychopathic, narcissistic and Machiavellian personality disorders. One out of about every 25 individuals has an antisocial personality disorder. Their prognosis for recovery is zero, their potential for hurting you about 100 percent. So don't assume that a vicious person just had a difficult childhood or a terrible day; most people with awful childhoods end up being empathetic, and most people, even on their worst days, don't seek satisfaction by inflicting pain. When you witness evil, if only the tawdry evil of a conversational stiletto twist, use your ninjutsu, wait for a distraction, then disappear.

Dear Fuckers, You may laugh at seeing one person's situation . Just remember.. You was also in that situation.

Dear Single Ladies, Love is precious, Remember this: You are worth pursuing. Don't Cheapen Yourself

E drept că așa frumoase nopți, două n-am văzut la fel, eu care știu a prețui noaptea ca nimeni altul și care am iubit-o cum nu se poate iubi ziua, cu nesaț și cu patimă. Sufletul meu sălbatic, care de obicei pare a ațipi zgribulit de o nemulțumire nedeslușită, nu începe a trăi pe deplin decât o dată cu stingerea celor din urmă văpăi ale amurgului; pe măsură ce se așterne vălul serii, renasc, mă simt mai eu, mai al meu.

Faced with a collective forgetting, we must fight to remember.

Find a place forgotten and make it feel that it is remembered! Find someone forgotten and make him feel that he is remembered!

Elisha,' he said, 'no matter what happens to me, where I go, what folks say about me, no matter what anybody says, you remember - please remember - I was saved. I was there.

Fear is a tactic to steal your hope and keep your vibration low, don't believe anything you're told.

Every place is the same, but we put names and numbers, build building different types... so far to remember them better and to recognize them better!

Finding meaning in the moment is what gives those meanings a value worth remembering.

For those of you out there today who have already been through hard times and are desperate for a word of encouragement, let me assure you that you can trust this Lord of heaven and earth. Remember that Scripture warns us to “lean not on your own understanding” (Proverbs 3:5).

Forgive those who hurt you yesterday. Reward those who help you today. Remember those who help you tomorrow.

From birth to death and further on As we were born and introduced into this world, We had a gift hard to express by word And somewhere in our continuous road, It kind of lost it sense and turned. There was that time we sure remember, When everything was now and 'till forever Children with no worries and no regrets, The only goal was making a few friends. But later on everything has changed, By minds that had it all arranged To bring the people into stress, Into creating their own mess. We have been slaved by our own mind, Turned into something out of our kind Slowly faded away from the present time, Forced to believe in lies, in fights and crime. They made it clearly a fight of the ego, A never ending war that won't just go They made it a competitive game, To seek selfish materialistic fame. They turned us one against eachother, Man against man, brother against brother Dividing us by religion and skin color, Making us fight to death over a dollar. Making us lose ourselves in sadly thoughts, Wasting our days by living in the past Depressed and haunted by the memories, And yet still hoping to fly in our dreams. Some of us tried learning how to dance, Step after step, giving our soul a new chance Some of us left our ego vanish into sounds, Thus being aware of our natural bounce. Some tried expressing in their rhymes, The voice of a generation which never dies They reached eternity through poetry Leaving the teachings that shall fulfill the prophecy Others have found their way through spirituality, Becoming conscious of the human duality Seeking the spiritual enlightenment, Of escaping an ego-oriented fighting Science, philosophy, religion, Try to explain the human origin. Maybe changes are yet to come, And it shall be better for some Death's for the spirit not an end, But a relieving of the embodiment So I believe that furthermore, We'll understand the power of our soul But leaving behind all we know, And all that we might not yet know It all resumes to that certain truth, That we all seek to once conclude.

Funny how you lose sight of some things and memory others.

Give dry bread to a rich kid and he will throw it into the dustbin, give it to the poor kid and he will remember your name for the rest of his days

Gone are the summer days and my mind along with them. No longer will I indulge in hopes of getting you back. It is hope that makes these chains heavier and autumnal nights longer. I will merely serve as a memory to you: the lover that recited love poems. I must go now and I urge you not to look back.

Gossip about us will abound tomorrow,” he said quietly. “I suspect it will abound tonight.” “And you don’t care.” “Not one whit. I have wanted to dance with you since the first ball I ever saw you attend.” “You looked so young and innocent that night, dressed in white. Who would have thought you were such a hellion?” She wasn’t certain whether he was striving to compliment or insult her, but it didn’t matter. What mattered was that he appeared to recall as many details about that night as she did. “You remember what I was wearing?” “I remember everything about you that night. You wore pink ribbons in your hair and pearls against your throat.” “The pearls were my mother’s.” “You were standing amongst a gaggle of girls, and you stood out not because of your beauty—which far exceeded theirs—but because of your refusal to be cowed. No one has ever challenged me as you do, Catherine.” “No one has ever intrigued me as you do, my lord.

Forgive yourself for the lives that will be lost, but do not forget them. A good leader always recognizes that sacrifices must be made in order to win, but remembering or forgetting those who sacrificed themselves for your cause is what separates the tyrants from the benevolent.