Unforgettable Quotes

We've searched our database for all the quotes and captions related to Unforgettable. Here they are! All 200 of them:

The value of things is not the time they last, but the intensity with which they occur. That is why there are unforgettable moments and unique people!
Fernando Pessoa
And there I am, blushing and confused, made beautiful by Cinna’s hands, desirable by Peeta’s confession, tragic by circumstance, and by all accounts, unforgettable.
Suzanne Collins (The Hunger Games (The Hunger Games, #1))
We wrapped our dreams in words and patterned the words so that they would live forever, unforgettable.
Neil Gaiman (Fragile Things: Short Fictions and Wonders)
The boy with no direction taught me something unforgettable: happiness comes again if you let it.
Adam Silvera (More Happy Than Not)
What is that unforgettable line?
Samuel Beckett
He was well aware that of the two of three thousand times he had made love (how many times had he made love in his life?) only two or three were really essential and unforgettable. The rest were mere echoes, imitations, repetitions, or reminiscences.
Milan Kundera (The Book of Laughter and Forgetting)
People will walk in and walk out of your life, but the one whose footstep made a long lasting impression is the one you should never allow to walk out.
Michael Bassey Johnson
When the past is forgotten, the present is unforgettable
Martin Amis (Other People)
The purpose of the poetry is not to dazzle us with an astonishing thought, but to make one moment of existence unforgettable and worthy of unbearable nostalgia.
Milan Kundera (Immortality)
Peeta actually is charming and then utterly winning as the boy in love. And there I am, blushing and confused, made beautiful by Cinna’s hands, desirable by Peeta’s confession, tragic by circumstance, and by all accounts, unforgettable.
Suzanne Collins (The Hunger Games (The Hunger Games, #1))
Kita tidak akan pernah benar-benar berhenti mencintai seseorang. Kita hanya belajar untuk hidup tanpa mereka.
Winna Efendi (Unforgettable)
This is how memories are; what seems so clear and unforgettable at one moment vanishes like steam the next.
Michelle Moran (The Heretic Queen)
Not exactly. You see, Portia and I think that the coal miner thing's very overdone. No one will remember you in that. And we both see it has our job to make District 12 tributes unforgettable,' says Cinna. I'll be naked for sure, I think. 'So rather than focus on the coal mining itself, we're going to focus on the coal,' says Cinna. Naked and covered in black dust, i think. 'And what do we do with coal? We burn it,' says Cinna. 'You're not afraid of fire, are you, Katniss?' He sees my expression and grins.
Suzanne Collins (The Hunger Games (The Hunger Games, #1))
Necessity knows no magic formulae-they are all left to chance. If a love is to be unforgettable, fortuities must immediately start fluttering down to it like birds to Francis of Assisi's shoulders.
Milan Kundera (The Unbearable Lightness of Being)
Seandainya memori seperti kaset yang dapat berulang-ulang diputar kembali.
Winna Efendi (Unforgettable)
Keep at it, Junebug—someday, you’ll shake the Republic to its very core. You’ll be absolutely unforgettable. I know it.
Marie Lu (Life Before Legend (Legend, #0.5))
Most people were raised to believe they are just as good as the next person. I was always told I was better.
Cecily von Ziegesar (Unforgettable (It Girl, #4))
Why me? He says: Because you are not like all the others, because I don't see anyone but you and you don't even realize it. He adds this phrase, which for me is unforgettable: Because you will leave and we will stay.
Philippe Besson (Lie With Me)
Such is the life of a man. Moments of joy, obliterated by unforgettable sorrow.
Marcel Pagnol
I wish for the same thing I've hoped for since the beginning. I wish for a life so brave, so unpredictable, so full of unexpected joys and unforgettable love that no box could possibly contain all my memories. Such a life won't be perfect. It'll be something better. It'll be my own paradise.
Chelsey Philpot (Even in Paradise)
Rasa kehilangan itu wajar. Tapi percaya deh, semuanya akan baik-baik aja. Suatu hari, lo akan bangun dan nggak merasakan apa-apa. Semua beban dari masa lalu lo, rasa sedih ini, puff! hilang begitu saja. Dan saat itu, lo akan lebih ikhlas menjalani semuanya, karena lo udah menerima bahwa kenyataan nggak bisa diubah.
Winna Efendi (Unforgettable)
We could make this work, you know." "I will knee you in the groin." "I could give you a night you will never forget." "Because you will be writhing in agony all night and I will laugh unmercifully. It will be unforgettable.
Darynda Jones (Fifth Grave Past the Light (Charley Davidson, #5))
We were marked and had been marked in unforgettable and forever ways. We were all better men for it. Marked men. None of us would have it any other way.
Jay Crownover (Asa (Marked Men, #6))
I’m on the benevolent side of antisocial. I don’t mind people, but I’d prefer not to have a lot of them around.
Jessica Bird (An Irresistible Bachelor (An Unforgettable Lady, #2 / Callie/Grace/Walker Brothers/Moorehouse series, #3))
Each, in its own way, was unforgettable. It would be difficult to — Rome! By all means, Rome. I will cherish my visit here in memory as long as I live.
Audrey Hepburn
Being different and thinking different makes a person unforgettable. History does not remember the forgettable.
Suzy Kassem (Rise Up and Salute the Sun: The Writings of Suzy Kassem)
Bringing my hand to his mouth, he softly kisses it. “Beautiful girl, of course I remember. How could I not? You’re unforgettable.
Kim Karr (Connected (Connections, #1))
Start unknown, finish unforgettable.
Misty Copeland
Without Thomas Jefferson and his Declaration of Independence, there would have been no American revolution that announced universal principles of liberty. Without his participation by the side of the unforgettable Marquis de Lafayette, there would have been no French proclamation of The Rights of Man. Without his brilliant negotiation of the Louisiana treaty, there would be no United States of America. Without Thomas Jefferson and James Madison, there would have been no Virginia Statute on Religious Freedom, and no basis for the most precious clause of our most prized element of our imperishable Bill of Rights - the First Amendment to the United States Constitution.
Christopher Hitchens
She lives her life like a flame; a dance of purposeful chaos.… Her enchanting light can guide you and quell your fears… She’s hot; warming those who respect her and burning those who don’t... She is a flame with an unforgettable glow… A weak man will try to dim her luminance... but her soul mate will take pleasure in fanning the blaze.
Steve Maraboli
You won't forget a woman like her, easily anyway. Once you cross paths with Magic it's hard to see life the same.
Nikki Rowe
It's one of those unforgettable moments that happen as a child, when you discover that all along the world has been betraying you.
Nicole Krauss (The History of Love)
Cinta itu punya bentuk yang berbeda-beda. Terasa beda dengan setiap orang. Bukan berarti itu bukan cinta.
Winna Efendi (Unforgettable)
Normal is overrated.” Cassie nudged me toward the bar. “Extraordinary is unforgettable.
Kerri Maniscalco (Escaping from Houdini (Stalking Jack the Ripper, #3))
Banyak orang yang berharap dapat memutar kembali waktu karena penyesalan, sampai hanya itu yang tinggal di benak mereka. Sampai penyesalan menggerogoti jiwa mereka, sampai lama-kelamaan mereka mati bersamanya. Penyesalan, sama seperti hidup, sama seperti kenangan, adalah hal yang sangat mengerikan.
Winna Efendi (Unforgettable)
But we had plenty of time for youthful indecision, both apart and together, for limping into the future past the unforgettable ash heaps of our histories.
Robyn Schneider (The Beginning of Everything)
Cinta itu butuh keberanian. Jika kau rasakan, maka peganglah. Peganglah erat-erat, karena ia belum tentu akan kembali lagi. Rasakanlah saja, nak.
Winna Efendi (Unforgettable)
Cinta adalah.. merasakan seluruh emosi jungkir balik dan berbaur menjadi satu. Merasa segalanya akan baik-baik saja selama berpegangan tangan dengannya. Seperti sedang bermimpi.. dengan kedua mata terbuka lebar-lebar.
Winna Efendi (Unforgettable)
Love is not the great story or unforgettable memories or living with someone till the end. Love is when you change. A whole new version of you that you never expected.
ياسر أحمد
You will and should do everything in your power to improve your actual writing skills. You’ll work hard to create characters that are compelling and unforgettable. But in the end, it’s the story that matters. Don’t ever let the other stuff get in the way of your inherent skills as a kick-butt storyteller. Move the reader, make them happy and sad and excited and scared. Make them stare into space after they’ve put the book down, thinking about the tale that’s become a part of them. Be unpredictable, be real, be interesting. Tell a good story.
James Dashner
But even quashed rebellions leave us different. Because freedom may be a forbidden fruit in tyrannies, but once tasted, it is unforgettable.
Justina Chen (North of Beautiful)
Kesan pertama selalu manis – seperti sekeranjang aprikot segar berpadu dengan vanili dan gulali. Meskipun sudah diteguk habis, rasanya tersisa untuk waktu yang sangat lama, baik pahit maupun manis. Bagi saya, cinta yang sesungguhnya seperti itu.
Winna Efendi (Unforgettable)
I take up my own pen again - the pen of all my old unforgettable efforts and sacred struggles. To myself - today - I need say no more. Large and full and high the future still opens. It is now indeed that I may do the work of my life. And I will.
Henry James (The Turn of the Screw)
Be different. Be original. Nobody will remember a specific flower in garden loaded with thousands of the same yellow flower, but they will remember the one that managed to change its color to purple. Being different and thinking differently make a person unforgettable. History does not remember the forgettable. It honors the unique minority the majority cannot forget.
Suzy Kassem (Rise Up and Salute the Sun: The Writings of Suzy Kassem)
Only God is capable of telling us what our rights and needs are. You have to surrender that right to Him.
Joni Eareckson Tada (Joni: An Unforgettable Story)
Ah, life's little surprises! They can make any day unforgettable... or make it your last.
T.A. Barron
I think humans might be like butterflies; people die every day without many other people knowing about them, seeing their colors, hearing their stories... and when humans are broken, they're like broken butterfly wings; suddenly there are so many beauties that are seen in different ways, so many thoughts and visions and possibilities that form, which couldn't form when the person wasn't broken! So it is not a very sad thing to be broken, after all! It's during the times of being broken, that you have all the opportunities to become things unforgettable! Just like the broken butterfly wing that I found, which has given me so many thoughts, in so many ways, has shown me so many words, and imaginations! But butterflies need to know, that it doesn't matter at all if the whole world saw their colors or not! But what matters is that they flew, they glided, they hovered, they saw, they felt, and they knew! And they loved the ones whom they flew with! And that is an existence worthwhile!
C. JoyBell C.
How the unforgettable faces of dusk would blend to her, the myriad footsteps, a thousand overtures, would blend to her footsteps; and there would be more drunkenness than wine in the softness of her eyes on his.
F. Scott Fitzgerald (This Side of Paradise)
Listen to your life. Listen to what happens to you because it is through what happens to you that God speaks . . . It's in language that's not always easy to decipher, but it's there, powerfully, memorably, unforgettably.
Frederick Buechner
Except for when I was very little and thought that being an "engineer" meant he drove a train. Then I imagined him in the seat of an engine car the color of coal, a string of shiny passenger cars trailing behind. One day my father laughed and corrected me. Everything snapped into focus. It's one of those unforgettable moments that happen as a child, when you discover that all along the world has been betraying you.
Nicole Krauss (The History of Love)
I wish for a life so brave, so unpredictable, so full of unexpected joys and unforgettable love that no box could possibly contain all my memories.
Chelsey Philpot (Even in Paradise)
What is wild cannot be bought or sold, borrowed or copied. It is. Unmistakable, unforgettable, unshakable, elemental as earth and ice, water, fire and air, a quintessence, pure spirit, resolving into no constituents. Don't waste your wildness: it is precious and necessary.
Jay Griffiths (Wild: An Elemental Journey)
i need to become beautiful. become remarkable. become unforgettable. become someones everything.
Christopher Gutiérrez
Sharing the same passionate love with another person, gives a feeling of being alive! The experience of something real, is unforgettable.
Ellen J. Barrier
Oh, my darling, it’s incredible, that someone so unforgettable should think I am unforgettable, too.
Nat King Cole
It was an unforgettable painting; it set a dense golden halo of light round the most trivial of moments, so that the moment, and all such moments, could never be completely trivial again.
John Fowles (The Magus)
The moment that every unrealised heart craves for. The unforgettable instant that a soul, clinging on to the purest memory of its previous life, longs for. The second, that in spite of a conspiracy of the gods, only a few lucky men experience. The moment when she enters his life.
Amish Tripathi (The Immortals of Meluha (Shiva Trilogy, #1))
What I want and I wanted to be unforgettable.
Ntozake Shange (For Colored Girls Who Have Considered Suicide / When the Rainbow Is Enuf)
You’re unforgettable; unimaginably, unbelievably, inconceivably unforgettable.
R.J. Lewis (Ignite (Ignite, #1))
How close people could be to us when they had gone as far away as possible, to the edges of the map. How unforgettable.
Paula McLain (Circling the Sun)
1. Society needs laws. While anarchy can often turn a humdrum weekend into something unforgettable, eventually the mob must be kept from stealing the conch and killing Piggy. And while it would be nice if that "something" was simple human decency, anybody who has witnessed the "50% Off Wedding Dress Sale" at Filene's Basement knows we need a backup plan—preferably in writing. On the other hand, too many laws can result in outright tyranny, particularly if one of those laws is "Kneel before Zod." Somewhere between these two extremes lies the legislative sweet-spot that produces just the right amount of laws for a well-adjusted society—more than zero, less than fascism.
Jon Stewart (America (The Book): A Citizen's Guide to Democracy Inaction)
I desire you so much that I believe I might lose my reason. My body yearns for yours, and I crumble every single time you touch me. I've tried to be stronger but the memory of you inside me burns me. No man has ever made me feel the way you did. Whether you believe me or not, I will cherish that unforgettable moment for the rest of my life.
Chris Lange (The Lord of the Clans)
We knew that it would soon be over, and so we put it all into a poem, to tell the universe who we were, and why we were here, and what we said and did and thought and dreamed and yearned for. We wrapped our dreams into words and patterned the words so that they would live forever, unforgettable.
Neil Gaiman (Fragile Things: Short Fictions and Wonders)
They [human lives] are composed like music. Guided by his sense of beauty, an individual transforms a fortuitous occurrence (Beethoven’s music, death under a train) into a motif, which then assumes a permanent place in the composition of the individual’s life. Anna could have chosen another way to take her life. But the motif of death and the railway station, unforgettably bound to the birth of love, enticed her in her hour of despair with its dark beauty. Without realizing it, the individual composes his life according to the laws of beauty even in times of greatest distress. It is wrong, then, to chide the novel for being fascinated by mysterious coincidences (like the meeting of Anna, Vronsky, the railway station, and death or the meeting of Beethoven, Tomas, Tereza, and the cognac), but it is right to chide man for being blind to such coincidences in his daily life. For he thereby deprives his life a dimension of beauty.
Milan Kundera (The Unbearable Lightness of Being)
I have been called arrogant myself in my time, and hope to earn the title again, but to claim that I am privy to the secrets of the universe and its creator — that's beyond my conceit. I therefore have no choice but to find something suspect even in the humblest believer. Even the most humane and compassionate of the monotheisms and polytheisms are complicit in this quiet and irrational authoritarianism: they proclaim us, in Fulke Greville's unforgettable line, "Created sick — Commanded to be well." And there are totalitarian insinuations to back this up if its appeal should fail. Christians, for example, declare me redeemed by a human sacrifice that occurred thousands of years before I was born. I didn't ask for it, and would willingly have foregone it, but there it is: I'm claimed and saved whether I wish it or not. And if I refuse the unsolicited gift? Well, there are still some vague mutterings about an eternity of torment for my ingratitude. That is somewhat worse than a Big Brother state, because there could be no hope of its eventually passing away.
Christopher Hitchens (Letters to a Young Contrarian)
Words create the stories that become history and become unforgettable.
Nina Sankovitch (Tolstoy and the Purple Chair: My Year of Magical Reading)
You’re the most unforgettable person I’ve ever met.
Jill Shalvis (The Trouble with Mistletoe (Heartbreaker Bay, #2))
We might not be the ones to change the world. We might not belong to the few that “put a ding in the universe.” We might not be something the whole world would celebrate. But...In the little corners that we live; in the lives that we’ve played a part in, we should be nothing but unforgettable.
Nesta Jojoe Erskine (Unforgettable: Living a Life That Matters)
And still it was gone. Seeing it again could not be living it again. You can always rediscover an old path and wander over it, but the best yo an do then is say, 'Ah, yes, know this turning!' --or remind yourself that, while you remember that unforgettable valley, the valley no longer remembers you.
Beryl Markham (West with the Night)
A woman is more than a powerful feeling or unforgettable taste, and a man should not try to eat from every dish. A good woman is a jewel from Allah for which a man must pay a heavy price. Be very careful.
Sister Souljah (Midnight)
To pay for my father's funeral I borrowed money from people he already owed money to. One called him a nobody. No, I said, he was a failure. You can't remember a nobody's name, that's why they're called nobodies. Failures are unforgettable.
Philip Schultz (Failure)
The memory of sacred moment is unforgettable.
Lailah Gifty Akita
But Maven isn't finished. He takes a step, not forward but to the side. In my direction. The full force of his gaze almost knocks me out of my seat. "And I want to die the way my mother did," he says plainly, as if asking for an extra blanket. Again I feel too stunned to think. All I can do is keep my jaw locked in place so my mouth won't gape open in shock. "Ripped apart by your fury," he pushes on, his eyes horrible, unforgettable, searing into me. The brand on my collarboen seems to burn. "And your hatred.
Victoria Aveyard (War Storm (Red Queen, #4))
Buat saya, ayah adalah seperti rumah ini. Saya tidak perlu menghuni setiap ruang dalam rumah, hanya sudut kecil di bawah atap. Saya tidak perlu menjadi seluruh dunia ayah, hanya bagian favoritnya. Saya seperti jenis wine kesukaannya, gadis kecilnya yang sering duduk di atas pangkuannya, memohon supaya dapat mencicip isi gelasnya.
Winna Efendi (Unforgettable)
I shall now explain my plan. You may then speak, but only to amend the detail. The broad outline is not subject to negotiation. Are you ready? Good … I propose to have sex with you. I believe it will be excellent sex. Your obedience on one particular issue of timing it will be required to make it unforgettable sex. I will explain that issue as we go. At the moment, I wish to hear your inevitable objection to the general sex part of this plan.
Nick Harkaway (Angelmaker)
Life is short, and that's why, I don't test people; because we all fail tests sometimes, but that is supposed to be okay! I don't play games with people; because people aren't toys. And I don't risk what I don't want to lose; because if I do lose it, it's definitely my loss and not theirs! How short is life, you ask me. Well, life is as short as one drop in eternity. I swim in a single drop in this basin of eternal waters, and after that drop evaporates, it's gone! But then you could argue that if life is just a drop, then why even bother? Well, yes it is a drop, but it's a meaningful drop, an unforgettable drop, and a beautiful one! It's so unforgettable, that when you come back again, if you choose to, you will remember it in your dreams at night! So you see, I don't test people, I don't play games, and I don't risk who and what I don't want to lose.
C. JoyBell C.
Mencintai seseorang.. mungkin seperti berjalan di atas lapangan es tanpa merasakan dinginnya. Lapisan esnya bisa retak kapan saja, tapi bagai orang bodoh kita terus melangkah maju. Kadang, paranoia menguasai dan membuat kita mengambil beberapa langkah mundur. Cinta adalah faktor yang membuat kita membulatkan tekad dan terus maju, percaya bahwa kita tidak akan jatuh dan tenggelam, walau percaya terlihat seperti resiko terbesar yang akan pernah kita ambil.
Winna Efendi (Unforgettable)
Love you too. Keep at it, Junebug—someday, you’ll shake the Republic to its very core. You’ll be absolutely unforgettable. I know it.
Marie Lu (Life Before Legend (Legend, #0.5))
Great scientific minds are shaped early by unforgettable experiences . . . and some miracle moments.
A.P.J. Abdul Kalam (Reignited: Scientific Pathways to a Better Future)
Whether one likes it or not, the bourgeoisie, as a class, is condemned to take responsibility for all the barbarism of history, the tortures of the Middle Ages and the Inquisition, warmongering and the appeal to the raison d’Etat, racism and slavery, in short everything against which it protested in unforgettable terms at the time when, as the attacking class, it was the incarnation of human progress.
Aimé Césaire (Discourse on Colonialism)
We all learn to bury a broken heart beneath layers of dignity
Mary Balogh (Simply Unforgettable (Simply Quartet #1))
Unforgettable assholes with a side of motherfucker.
Kate Stewart (Exodus (The Ravenhood Duet #2))
Good is a-dime-a-dozen. I mean perfect, quintessentially unique, unforgettable; a moment you would gladly stay in for the rest of your life, only the essence of it to sustain you.
Michael Reilly
There’s no salve to the heart when it comes to forgetting you. You’re unforgettable; unimaginably, unbelievably, inconceivably unforgettable.
R.J. Lewis (Ignite (Ignite, #1))
Unforgettable places, unforgettable people.
Lailah Gifty Akita (Pearls of Wisdom: Great mind)
You don’t go to Niagara Falls or the pyramids every day, but you remember them forever. That’s what I offer. An unforgettable night, and a taxi ride home.
J.D. Hawkins (Insatiable, Part One (Insatiable #1))
His eyes undress me and I want to drop every piece of clothing when he’s near. His eyes promise unforgettable nights between soft sheets. They promise pleasure like no other.
V. Theia (Manhattan Target (From Manhattan #6))
She’s not the kind of girl you can easily forget,” Alex said, before sitting upright again and taking a deep breath. “She’s unforgettable.
Charlie Maclean (Unforgettable)
Amory wandered slowly up the avenue and thought of the night as inevitably his-- the pageantry and carnival of rich dusk and dim streets... it seemed that he had closed the book of fading harmonies at last and stepped into the sensuous vibrant walks of life. Everywhere these countless lights, this promise of a night of streets and singing-- he moved in a half-dream through the crowd as if expecting to meet Rosalind hurrying toward him with eager feet from every corner... How the unforgettable faces of dusk would blend to her, the myriad footsteps, a thousand overtures, would blend to her footsteps; and there would be more drunkenness than wine in the softness of her eyes on his. Even his dreams now were faint violins drifting like summer sounds upon the summer air.
F. Scott Fitzgerald (This Side of Paradise)
And suddenly something unforgettable occurred: suddenly she felt a desire to go to him and hear his voice, his words. If he spoke to her in a soft, deep voice her soul would take courage and rise to the surface of her body, and she would burst our crying. She would put her arms around him the way she had put her arms around the chestnut tree's thick trunk in her dream.
Milan Kundera (The Unbearable Lightness of Being)
Those lyrics tell the story Dahlia, our story. I wrote that song five years ago and even now when I sing it, your face is the face I see. You’re unforgettable Dahlia. You’re perfect, really.
Kim Karr (Connected (Connections, #1))
Necessity knows no magic formuae—they are all left to chance. If a love is to be unforgettable, fortuities must immediately start fluttering down to it like birds to Francis of Assisi’s shoulders.
Milan Kundera (The Unbearable Lightness of Being)
When you interact with someone who is fully engaged and filled with passion, it can be an overwhelming and unforgettable experience. There is no faking it…you can’t “Meg Ryan” that type of passion!
Dave Burgess (Teach Like a PIRATE: Increase Student Engagement, Boost Your Creativity, and Transform Your Life as an Educator)
How many of us take the time to relive half a lifetime’s worth of happy memories, cringeworthy failures, and unforgettable adventures together? How many of us get a chance to sit down and talk about the rough times we overcame in the past or to laugh about the stupid mistakes we made when we were young?
Joanna Gaines (The Magnolia Story)
She was a stranger, but not just any stranger. She was "the stranger". And of course, that was the difference that made everyone's emotions stranger.
Shannon L. Alder
...but most roads I have learned from past experience lead somewhere eventually.
Mary Balogh (Simply Unforgettable (Simply Quartet #1))
They were all true today but tomorrow they would be a little less so and next week less so again. It was in the nature of strong emotion that it faded away over time.
Mary Balogh (Simply Unforgettable (Simply Quartet #1))
Nyx was a lot of things, but forgettable wasn't one of them.
Kameron Hurley (Infidel (Bel Dame Apocrypha, #2))
I often think about her. One thing she said stayed with me, a dagger in my heart: "You know for me the most horrible thing of all is knowing that he will forget me." I lacked the presence of mind to tell her that it was impossible; she was simply unforgettable.
Ingrid Betancourt (Even Silence Has an End: My Six Years of Captivity in the Colombian Jungle)
going to make the time we have together unforgettable. I'm going to fuse you to me, so that there is no way of knowing where the separation between you and me begins—or even if there is one. I'm going to fill this summer with us, so that when you look back on it, all you remember is me, and when I look back on it, all I remember is you. I'm going to put as much life into now as I can. Like you did for me. Now it's my turn.
Lindy Zart (Unlit Star)
The woman who is unforgettably sexy is a confident woman who can function on her own, and who won't always let him have the upper hand... with one caveat... she can't be too strong or combative that he feels emasculated
Sherry Argov (Why Men Love Bitches)
She said if good-hearted families travel to Night Vale only to find their subconsciouses besieged with unforgettable revelations, horrors buried so deep as to be completely indescribable, revealing wholly unbearable new truths, then we certainly can't expect these people to return, let alone leave good Yelp ratings for local businesses.
Joseph Fink (Mostly Void, Partially Stars (Welcome to Night Vale Episodes, #1))
Fantasy novels reveal “emergency escape routes” from reality. Romance novels dish out a banquet of Eye Candy. Otherworldly passion erupts when the two collide in an epic novel of unforgettable characters and dire circumstances.
Sarah J. Pepper (Forbidden Beloved)
If you can master me, that look seemed to say, then you can master whatever else this wicked world might bring. I can see her now, standing amidst her deerhounds that had the same thin, lean bodies, and the same long nose and the same huntess eyes as their mistress. Green eyes, she had, with a kind of cruelty deep inside them. It was not a soft face, any more that her body was soft. She was a woman of strong lines and high bones, and that made for a good face and a handsome one, but hard, so hard. What made her beautiful was her hair and her carriage, for she stood as straight as spear and her hair fell around her shoulders like a cascade of tumbling red tangles. That red hair softened her looks, while her laughter snared men like salmon caught in basket traps. There have been many more beautiful women, and thousands who were better, but since the world was weaned I doubt there have been many more so unforgettable as Guinevere, eldest daughter of Leodegan, the exiled King of Henis Wyren. And it would have been better, Merlin always said, had she been drowned at birth.
Bernard Cornwell (The Winter King (The Warlord Chronicles, #1))
Gladness is intoxicating. I fire my gun and an unforgettable echo answers from crag to crag, floats out over the sea and rings in some sleepless helmsman’s ears. What am I glad about? A thought that comes to me, a memory, a sound in the forest, a human being. I think of her—I close my eyes and stand still on the road and think of her, counting the minutes.
Knut Hamsun (Pan)
Because freedom may be a forbidden fruit in tyrannies, but once tasted, it is unforgettable.
Justina Chen (North of Beautiful)
Too late; my awkwardness had already made an unforgettable appearance, so, of course, I couldn’t be let off the hook.
Katherine McIntyre (By the Sea)
The beautiful thing about love is the feeling of being alive. When we share our love with others, we experience something that is real, and unforgettable.
Ellen J. Barrier
And just so you know,” he whispers in my ear, “our first kiss will be an unforgettably, toe-curling, heart-stopping, leave-you-breathless kind of kiss. I promise.
Annie Brewer (Entangled)
All she ever wanted was unpredictable kisses and unforgettable laughter.
Brandon Villasenor
Our lives are composed of unexpected moments and unforgettable adventures.
Erin Forbes (Fire & Ice: The Lost Dreamer (Fire & Ice, #2))
It is easy to love but difficult to forget, so love every moment to create an enormous unforgettable memory.
Debasish Mridha
A love like ours is unforgettable.
Kelly Elliott (Unforgettable Love (Journey of Love #3))
You care, you dare and you share; this is the unforgettable rule of every true believer and achiever.
Israelmore Ayivor (Daily Drive 365)
From the seed of the siver apple came the wardrobe. Through the wardrobe came four children. To these children came a special magic. With that magic came seven unforgettable stories.
Mary Jane Wilkins (Narnia Chronology: From the Archives of the Last King)
Unforgettable experiences are generally worth splurging on; unlike stuff, memories don’t wear out (or take up space, get dusty, break, or get stolen). If you really want to go and work at an orangutan orphanage in Borneo, it will be worth the cash.
Rosie Blythe (The Princess Guide to Life)
What am I?” I ask. “Unforgettable,” Reed replies. “You’re art that cannot be concealed… danger that cannot be tamed…love that cannot be measured… a new law that denies a probable outcome.
Amy A. Bartol (Incendiary (The Premonition, #4))
Ah God! to see the branches stir Across the moon at Grantchester! To smell the thrilling-sweet and rotten Unforgettable, unforgotten River-smell, and hear the breeze Sobbing in the little trees. Say, do the elm-clumps greatly stand Still guardians of that holy land? The chestnuts shade, in reverend dream, The yet unacademic stream Is dawn a secret shy and cold Anadyomene, silver-gold? And sunset still a golden sea From Haslingfield to Madingley? And after, ere the night is born, Do hares come out about the corn? Oh, is the water sweet and cool, Gentle and brown, above the pool? And laughs the immortal river still Under the mill, under the mill? Say, is there Beauty yet to find? And Certainty? and Quiet kind? Deep meadows yet, for to forget The lies, and truths, and pain?… oh! yet Stands the Church clock at ten to three? And is there honey still for tea?
Rupert Brooke (The Old Vicarage, Grantchester)
Let’s all try to be fearless, sometimes we wish for the most perfect of outcomes and we arrive at the most unforgettable. Life can be scary and leave us hiding, but when we come out of hiding, we may realize, that life was the one thing that we could always count on…
Holly Hood (Scattered and Broken (Wingless, #3))
The wild. I have drunk it, deep and raw, and heard it's primal, unforgettable roar. We know it in our dreams, when our mind is off the leash, running wild. 'Outwardly, the equivalent of the unconscious is the wilderness: both of these terms meet, one step even further on, as one,' wrote Gary Snyder. 'It is in vain to dream of a wildness distinct from ourselves. There is none such,' wrote Thoreau. 'It is the bog in our brains and bowls, the primitive vigor of Nature in us, that inspires the dream.' And as dreams are essential to the psyche, wildness is to life. We are animal in our blood and in our skin. We were not born for pavements and escalators but for thunder and mud. More. We are animal not only in body but in spirit. Our minds are the minds of wild animals. Artists, who remember their wildness better than most, are animal artists, lifting their heads to sniff a quick wild scent in the air, and they know it unmistakably, they know the tug of wildness to be followed through your life is buckled by that strange and absolute obedience. ('You must have chaos in your soul to give birth to a dancing star,' wrote Nietzsche.) Children know it as magic and timeless play. Shamans of all sorts and inveterate misbehavers know it; those who cannot trammel themselves into a sensible job and life in the suburbs know it. What is wild cannot be bought or sold, borrowed or copied. It is. Unmistakeable, unforgettable, unshamable, elemental as earth and ice, water, fire and air, a quitessence, pure spirit, resolving into no contituents. Don't waste your wildness: it is precious and necessary.
Jay Griffiths (Wild: An Elemental Journey)
Let me begin with a heartfelt confession. I admit it. I am a biblioholic, one who loves books and whose life would seem incomplete without them. I am an addict, with a compulsive need to stop by nearly any bookstore I pass in order to get my fix. Books are an essential part of my life, the place where I have spent many unforgettable moments. For me, reading is one of the most enjoyable ways to pass a rainy afternoon or a leisurely summer day. I crave the knowledge and insights that truly great books bring into my life and can spend transported hours scouring used book stores for volumes which "I simply must have". I love the smell and feel of well-loved books and the look of a bookcase full of books waiting to be taken down and read.
Terry W. Glaspey (Book Lover's Guide to Great Reading: A Guided Tour of Classic & Contemporary Literature)
I'll stay with you a little, my unforgettable delight, for as long as my arms and my hands and my lips remember you. I'll put my grief for you in a work that will endure and be worthy of you. I'll write your memory into an image of aching tenderness and sorrow. I'll stay here till this is done, then I too will go. This is how I will portray you, I'll trace your features on paper as the sea, after a fearful storm has churned it up, traces the form of the greatest, farthest-reaching wave on the sand. Seaweed, shells, cork, pebbles, the lightest, most imponderable things that it could lift from its bed, are cast up in a broken, sinuous line on the sand. This line endlessly stretching into the distance is the frontier of the highest tide. That was how life's storm cast you up on my shore, O my pride, that is how I'll portray you.
Boris Pasternak (Doctor Zhivago)
we are all like poems. some of us rhyme. some don’t. some are Pulitzer prizes some are just scribbles and yet, we all possess a special kind of beauty that can either heal or cut to the bone one that can never quite be fathomed, nor forgotten.
Sanober Khan
Probably, I thought, my suffering and training is a lifelong process. It will end only when I go to be with Christ.
Joni Eareckson Tada (Joni: An Unforgettable Story)
A great book feeds our soul and nourishes our spirit in a way nothing else can.
C.S. Lakin (Writing the Heart of Your Story: The Secret to Crafting an Unforgettable Novel (The Writer's Toolbox Series))
Through seeing the good in others, you also see the best within yourself.
Warren Cassell Jr. (The Farm of Wisdom: 25 Unforgettable Tales that Will Ignite a Wiser You!)
The master takes his good enough work to excellence by considering every detail and straightening all that is crooked. Excellence happens when every detail is taken care of.
Nesta Jojoe Erskine (Unforgettable: Living a Life That Matters)
We have big dreams - sometimes scary, unforgettable dreams that repeat on the same date every year and are shared by every person in town - but we make those big dreams come true. Remember the clock tower? It took eight years and $23 million to build, and despite its invisibility and constant teleportation, it is a lovely structure that keeps impeccable time.
Joseph Fink (Mostly Void, Partially Stars (Welcome to Night Vale Episodes, #1))
I danced in the flames and pranced on the shames of those whose names I could not reveal. I have been told, exhaustingly by a genus of psychiatry, that to forget allegedly means to heal but if only such a thought became real. To die when compared to living has, at times, seemed like the lesser evil.
The Raveness (Night Tide Musings)
Remembrance is acknowledging that a life was lived ... My father finally wrote out his memories for a reason. I took on a year of reading books for a reason. Because words are witness to life: they record what has happened, and they make it all real. Words create the stories that become history and become unforgettable. Even fiction portrays truth: good fiction is truth. Stories about lives remembered bring us backward while allowing us to move forward.
Nina Sankovitch (Tolstoy and the Purple Chair: My Year of Magical Reading)
Tocqueville long ago marked as the great weakness of a democracy in his unforgettable phrase, “the tyranny of the majority.” The pressure to emulate neighbors, the urge to conform to popular views and manners, the deep fear of being different
Herman Wouk (This Is My God)
Everything I know, everything I put in my fiction, will hurt someone somewhere as surely as it will comfort and enlighten someone else. What then is my responsibility? What am I to restrain? What am I to fear and alter--my own nakedness or the grief of the reader? I want my stories to be so good they are unforgettable; to make my ideas live and my own terrors real for people I will never meet. It is a completely amoral writer's lust. If we begin to agree that some ideas are too dangerous, too bad to invite inside our heads, then we stop the storyteller completely. We silence everyone who would tell us something that might be painful in our vulnerable moments.
Dorothy Allison
...there are older people, teachers for example, of whom it is insufficient merely to say that they are unforgettable. People who have helped you in some significant way, I mean. You have to admit that these people are worthy to be remembered. Since they have sworn no oath of duty or affection for you, they have no obligation to you. You are just a stranger to them, and even when, by the very nature of things, you have forgotten them, it does not mean that you are lacking in affection or sense of obligation. However, there are some people in this world that you can just never forget.
Doppo Kunikida (River Mist and Other Stories)
God didn't give us minds to be able to understand everything. That's part of the mystery. Now, you can drive yourself crazy tryin' to understand something you were never meant to figure out down here, or you can just trust Him 'til He's ready to let you in on it. 'Til then, just enjoy the mystery.
Renee Riva (Saving Sailor: A Quirky Girl, A Faithful Dog, and One Unforgettable Summer (A.J., #1))
The big event that rips through the heart of things and changes life for everyone, the unforgettable moment when something ends and something else begins. Was that what this was, he asked himself, a moment similar to the outbreak of war? No, not quite. War announces the beginning of a new reality, but nothing had begun today, a reality had ended, that was all, something had been subtracted from the world, and now there was a hole, a nothing where there had once been a something, as if every tree in the world had vanished, as if the very concept of tree or mountain had been erased from the human mind.
Paul Auster (4 3 2 1)
I took on a year of reading books for a reason. Because words are witness to life: they record what has happened, and they make it all real. Words create the stories that become history and become unforgettable. Even fiction portrays truth: good fiction is truth.
Nina Sankovitch (Tolstoy and the Purple Chair: My Year of Magical Reading)
It's just a kiss, she mentally swore. But kiss was much too simple a word to call the powerful connection that simply rocked her world.
Tamara Ferguson (That Unforgettable Kiss (Kissed By Fate, #1))
The sunset over the bay that evening was a conflagration of blood-red and orange and deep, gold-edged purple. I remember: unforgettable.
Anne Rivers Siddons (Colony)
If you have enemies, forgive them. Forgiveness is always the best revenge and unforgettable punishment.
Debasish Mridha
Being different and thinking differently make a person unforgettable. History does not remember the forgettable. It honors the unique minority the majority cannot forget.
Suzy Kassem (Rise Up and Salute the Sun: The Writings of Suzy Kassem)
Great moment, unforgettable memory.
Lailah Gifty Akita
Her love was like endless summer nights -unforgettable.
J.WOLF
The unforgettable thing in his life is usually not a thing he has done or left undone, but a thing done to him—some insolence or cruelty for which he could not, or did not, avenge himself.
Max Beerbohm (Zuleika Dobson, or, an Oxford love story)
She allowed history to leave her without trying to hold it back, the way children allow a grand parade to pass, holding it in their memory, making it an unforgettable thing, making it their own
Salman Rushdie (Two Years Eight Months and Twenty-Eight Nights)
You accept that people are the way they are. There's nothing you can do about it, except learn ways to minimize the damage they can do to you. It's like rain. We don't feel a need to forgive the sky for raining on a day when we really wanted sunshine, do we? No. We might be upset and disappointed, but the need to forgive never enters our mind.
Julie Ortolon (Unforgettable (Texas Heat Wave #3))
The graveyard is not the final resting place of our dear departed but an ephemeral repository of their remains. The real graveyard, however, is somewhere deep in our heart, where we can always visit them at any time of the day, talk about some unforgettable summers, or cry in solitude as if they were always there for us to stay. And should our twilight come, when we can no longer see the light of the day, some people dear to us will build a graveyard in their hearts. They will let us stay for a while or perhaps longer, as long as they continue to remember, but it does not matter anymore. What is comforting to know, no matter how tragic or tranquil our death may be, somewhere somehow someone will always build a sublime place for us to stay. (Danny Castillones Sillada, The Graveyard In Our Heart)
Danny Castillones Sillada
She had a strange, wild beauty, a face that was disconcerting at first, but unforgettable. Her eyes in particular had an expression, at once voluptuous and fierce, that I have never seen on any human face. 'Gypsy's eye, wolf's eye' is a phrase Spaniards apply to people with keen powers of observation.
Prosper Mérimée (Carmen)
stories we all are stories, we are books longing for someone to look beyond our covers, and turn our pages and read the ink tattooed on them. we long to be seen, we want to be read and understood and loved, we are hoping to become poetry to those hearts that see us, something beautiful and unforgettable.
Gaby Comprés (the words i want you to keep)
You can die for it - an idea, or the world. People have done so, brilliantly, letting their small bodies be bound to the stake, creating an unforgettable fury of light. But this morning, climbing the familiar hills in the familiar fabric of dawn, I thought of China and India and Europe, and I thought how the sun blazes for everyone just so joyfully as it rises under the lashes of my own eyes, and I thought I am so many! What is my name? What is the name of the deep breath I would take over and over for all of us? Call it whatever you want, it is happiness, it is another one of the ways to enter fire.
Mary Oliver (Dream Work)
She refused at first, saying it would make a mockery of their love. She loved him too much to admit that what she thought of as unforgettable could ever be forgotten. Finally, of course, she did as he asked, but without enthusiasm. The notebooks showed it: they had many empty pages, and the entries were fragmentary.
Milan Kundera (The Book of Laughter and Forgetting)
How you accessorize your wardrobe can transform the plainest outfit into a dazzling, unforgettable impression. It can be the mark of your own unique style, an extra splash of fashion, or an expression of your mood.
Susan C. Young (The Art of Preparation: 8 Ways to Plan with Purpose & Intention for Positive Impact (The Art of First Impressions for Positive Impact, #2))
As it was, nothing happened except the two of us watching the sea come in and go out again, listening to the birds, sheltering from the rain when it came, and lying silent as the sky changed from blue to white to gold. For hours we lay side by side, breathing softly together, watching thin rivulets of water run down the cliffs and into the sea, feeling the world slowly revolve around us as we leaned into each other for warmth--and for something else, something I couldn't quite name, something glorious, frightening, and unforgettable.
Meg Rosoff (What I Was)
Helena silently put down the phone and tiptoed to the bathroom door. What should she do? Run? Knock? Walk in? Get naked? And…how should she feel? Excited? Freaked out? Angry because he hadn’t called for three weeks? Relieved, because the wait was over and she could finally start asking all those questions swimming in her head? The door swung open, and Niccolo boldly stood before her in his birthday-suit-glory, his unforgettable diamond-cut abs glistening with drops of water. A whoosh of air left her lungs. I’m going with…naked and excited!
Mimi Jean Pamfiloff (Accidentally Married to...a Vampire? (Accidentally Yours, #2))
Love hurts. Think back over romance novels you’ve loved or the genre-defining books that drive our industry. The most unforgettable stories and characters spring from crushing opposition. What we remember about romance novels is the darkness that drives them. Three hundred pages of folks being happy together makes for a hefty sleeping pill, but three hundred pages of a couple finding a way to be happy in the face of impossible odds makes our hearts soar. In darkness, we are all alone. So don’t just make love, make anguish for your characters. As you structure a story, don’t satisfy your hero’s desires, thwart them. Make sure your solutions create new problems. Nurture your characters doubts and despair. Make them earn the happy ending they want, even better…make them deserve it. Delay and disappointment charge situations and validate character growth. Misery accompanies love. It’s no accident that many of the stories we think of as timeless romances in Western Literature are fiercely tragic: Romeo and Juliet, Tristan and Isolde, Cupid and Psyche… the pain in them drags us back again and again, hoping that this time we’ll find a way out of the dark. Only if you let your characters get lost will we get lost in them. And that, more than anything else, is what romance can and should do for its protagonists and its readers: lead us through the labyrinth, skirt the monstrous despair roaming its halls, and find our way into daylight.
Damon Suede
You can't have it both ways, Jess. There's are sure thing and then there's happiness--- but you gotta take the risk.
Sallyann J. Murphey (The Metcalfe Family Album: The Unforgettable Saga of an American Family)
The idea is to write so that people hear it, and it slides through the brain and goes straight to the heart.” ~Maya Angelou
C.S. Lakin (Writing the Heart of Your Story: The Secret to Crafting an Unforgettable Novel (The Writer's Toolbox Series))
We often give others the tools for our own demise.
Warren Cassell Jr. (The Farm of Wisdom: 25 Unforgettable Tales that Will Ignite a Wiser You!)
You are not responsible for how people feel or react when you say no to them. You are only responsible for your word; your “no” or your “yes.
Nesta Jojoe Erskine (Unforgettable: Living a Life That Matters)
If done correctly, these techniques can allow the Bobo pilgrim to have 6 unforgettable moments a morning, 2 rapturous experiences over lunch, 1.5 profound insights in the afternoon (on average), and .667 life-altering epiphanies after each sunset.
David Brooks (Bobos in Paradise)
But that's the same for everyone if we let society determine our value," Steve explained as he sat down on the piano bench. "We always lose when we evaluate ourselves according to some one else's ideas or standards. And there are as many standards as there are people. A jock measures you by your athletic ability; a student by your brains; a steady by your looks. It's a losing battle," he said, striking a sour piano chord for added emphasis. "We have to forget about what people say or think, and recognize that God's values are the only important ones.
Joni Eareckson Tada (Joni: An Unforgettable Story)
Early in the novel that Tereza clutched under her arm when she went to visit Tomas, Anna meets Vronsky in curious circumstances: they are at the railway station when someone is run over by a train. At the end of the novel, Anna throws herself under a train. This symmetrical composition - the same motif appears at the beginning and at the end - may seem quite "novelistic" to you, and I am willing to agree, but only on condition that you refrain from reading such notions as "fictive," "fabricated," and "untrue to life" into the word "novelistic." Because human lives are composed in precisely such a fashion. They are composed like music. Guided by his sense of beauty, an individual transforms a fortuitous occurrence (Beethoven's music, death under a train) into a motif, which then assumes a permanent place in the composition of the individual's life. Anna could have chosen another way to take her life. But the motif of death and the railway station, unforgettably bound to the birth of love, enticed her in her hour of despair with its dark beauty. Without realizing it, the individual composes his life according to the laws of beauty even in times of greatest distress. It is wrong, then, to chide the novel for being fascinated by mysterious coincidences (like the meeting of Anna, Vronsky, the railway station, and death or the meeting of Beethoven, Tomas, Tereza, and the cognac), but it is right to chide man for being blind to such coincidences in his daily life. For he thereby deprives his life of a dimension of beauty.
Milan Kundera
Swansea is a town where art is alive. If it became a cultural centre or a resort where art was fashionable and where it was always being discussed but never being created, it would be a town where art was dead... There is no room in Swansea to be pompous without becoming ludicrous, and all the pompous aspects of Swansea are ludicrous; but the town itself, the town of windows between hills and the sea, is unforgettable. What should Swansea become? It should, I think, generate its own species and become what it is now, a town where art is alive.
Dylan Thomas
There is child abuse, and there are such things as repressed memories. But there are also such things as false memories and confabulations, and they are not rare at all. Misrememberings are the rule, not the exception. They occur all the time. They occur even in cases where the subject is absolutely confident - even when the memory is a seemingly unforgettable flashbulb, one of those metaphorical mental photographs.
Carl Sagan (The Demon-Haunted World: Science as a Candle in the Dark)
The strange thing about falling in love is, we know what it looks and feels like. But we can’t really explain why it occurs and where all the madness it brings with it comes from. “Or why it just seems to happen like magic between two particular people but not others. “The appearance of love seems totally irrational, inexplicable and without reason. Yet, when it happens it feels like the only thing that makes any sense. True love, I guess, is when it keeps on making sense after you actually get to know the other person.
Charlie Maclean (Unforgettable)
He adds this phrase, which for me is unforgettable: Because you will leave and we will stay. Even now I remain fascinated by this sentence. Understand, it isn't the premonition that fascinates me, nor even the fact that it has been realized. It's also not the maturity or poignancy implied. It's not the arrangement of the words, even if I'm aware that I probably wouldn't have been able to come up with those exact ones myself. It's the violence that the words carry within them, their admission of inferiority and, at the same time, of love. He tells me something I did not know: that I will leave.
Philippe Besson (Lie With Me)
Books can change one's life.. as "tools" for the tradesmen, motivate the mind to achieve the impossible, mould one's Character, personality. I was inspired by the reading of Henries Charriere's Papillon, when I was a Teenager. The inspiration lead me to take an overland expedition from Colombo (Sri Lanka) to Frankfurt (Germany), sharpened my knowledge of Countries and Nations. Unforgettable experience !! Thanks to Henries Charriere's Papillon.(less)
Henries Charriere
And still it was gone. Seeing it again could not be living it again. You can always rediscover an old path and wander over it, but the best you can do then is to say, "Ah, yes, I know this turning!" -- or remind yourself that, while you remember that unforgettable valley, the valley no longer remembers you.
Beryl Markham (West with the Night)
You’ve had sex with that girl!” He blinked at my tone and my words, then his face heated. “And?” I blinked that he didn’t even try and deny it. “And…and…” Not having a real argument, I sighed and hung my head. “And I’m tired of running into girls who know what making love to you feels like. “ He sighed and stepped into me, cupping my face. His voice and face softer, he shook his head. “No one but you knows what making love to me feels like.” Raising his eyebrows, he rested his head against mine. “I didn’t even know what making love was like until you.” Pulling back, he tilted his head at the building. “What happened with that girl…was just sex. A mindless, physical act that had no meaning or feeling behind it. It was just pleasure…and I don’t even really remember it.” Squatting down, he met my eye. “I remember every single time with you. Even before we were together, being with you haunted my dreams. I couldn’t forget, even when I wanted to…” His thumbs brushed over my cheeks as I felt tears falling down them. “You…seared me. That’s making love. That is something that none of them have over you. You are…unforgettable…and I love you.” Sniffling, I swallowed a couple times before I could finally say, “I love you, too.
S.C. Stephens (Effortless (Thoughtless, #2))
I told her about the best and the worst. The slow and sleepy places where weekdays rolled past like weekends and Mondays didn’t matter. Battered shacks perched on cliffs overlooking the endless, rumpled sea. Afternoons spent waiting on the docks, swinging my legs off a pier until boats rolled in with crates full of oysters and crayfish still gasping. Pulling fishhooks out of my feet because I never wore shoes, playing with other kids whose names I never knew. Those were the unforgettable summers. There were outback towns where you couldn’t see the roads for red dust, grids of streets with wandering dogs and children who ran wild and swam naked in creeks. I remembered climbing ancient trees that had a heartbeat if you pressed your ear to them. Boomboom-boomboom. Dreamy nights sleeping by the campfire and waking up covered in fine ash, as if I’d slept through a nuclear holocaust. We were wanderers, always with our faces to the sun.
Vikki Wakefield (Friday Brown)
We are artists. We are writers—slightly neurotic and probably addicted to coffee, late nights, sunsets, laughter, tears, and heartache. Creativity is our drug. We lose ourselves in the smell of old books. We’re bewildered by how we can live in a world this full of glory and grief and not be awestruck every moment. And we write stories to help wake people up before they fall asleep for good.
Steven James (Story Trumps Structure: How to Write Unforgettable Fiction by Breaking the Rules)
It is not true that we have never been broken. We have been broken upon the wheel. It is not true that we have never descended from these thrones. We have descended into hell. We were complaining of unforgettable miseries even at the very moment when this man entered insolently to accuse us of happiness. I repel the slander; we have not been happy.
G.K. Chesterton (The Man Who Was Thursday: A Nightmare)
It is a masterpiece,' said Jules Fougler. 'I hope you will prove yourself worthy of it, Peter. It is the kind of play that depends upon what the members of the audience are capable of bringing with them into the theater. If you are one of those literal-minded people, with a dry soul and a limited imagination, it is not for you. But if you are a real human being with a big, big heart full of laughter, who has preserved the uncorrupted capacity of his childhood for pure emotion-you will find it an unforgettable experience.
Ayn Rand (The Fountainhead)
She nodded, even though everyone knows that the first time, for anything, is rarely the last.
Cecily von Ziegesar (Unforgettable (It Girl, #4))
Freedom of action is disguised as a freedom of discipline.
Warren Cassell Jr. (The Farm of Wisdom: 25 Unforgettable Tales that Will Ignite a Wiser You!)
One who has a clear mind can never be fooled by his senses.
Warren Cassell Jr. (The Farm of Wisdom: 25 Unforgettable Tales that Will Ignite a Wiser You!)
Amidst all the criticisms and prejudgement in life, we should strive to do good in return; however small, instead of just turning your back against the world.
Warren Cassell Jr. (The Farm of Wisdom: 25 Unforgettable Tales that Will Ignite a Wiser You!)
My expectations don’t have a limitation. It will modify according to your abilities.
Smita Kaushik (The Girl I Last Loved: An unforgettable love story)
His hands cupped her cheeks, holding her steady so that he might drink in the sight of her. It was too dark to see the exact colors that made her unforgettable face, but Simon knew that her lips were soft and pink, with just a tinge of peach at the corners. He knew that her eyes were made up of dozens of shades of brown, with that one enchanting circle of green constantly daring him to take a closer look, to see if it was really there or just a figment of his imagination. But the rest— how she would feel, how she would taste— he could only imagine. And Lord, how he’d been imagining it. Despite his composed demeanor, despite all of his promises to Anthony, he burned for her. When he saw her across a crowded room, his skin grew hot, and when he saw her in his dreams, he went up in flames. Now— now that he had her in his arms, her breath fast and uneven with desire, her eyes glazed with need she couldn’t possibly comprehend— now he thought he might explode. And so kissing her became a matter of self-preservation. It was simple. If he did not kiss her now, if he did not consume her, he would die. It sounded melodramatic, but at the moment he would have sworn it to be true. The hand of desire twisting around his gut would burst into flame and take him along with it. He needed her that much.
Julia Quinn (The Duke and I (Bridgertons, #1))
Someone asked me, "What does it mean to be unforgettable?" and I answered, "Being unforgettable means having an absence that is felt just as much as your presence." An absence that is felt just as strongly as the presence. Today, people strive to become unforgettable and they believe the way to achieve this is by constantly reminding others of their attributes and their existence, lest they are forgotten. Lest anyone forget they are beautiful or talented or powerful. But that is not unforgettable; that is desperation. Absence is an attribute, this is what people do not know! Absence is an attribute just as much as presence is. When people feel your absence just as much, or perhaps even more than, they feel your presence-- this is what it means to be unforgettable.
C. JoyBell C.
We knew that it would soon be over, and so we put it all into a poem, to tell the universe who we were, and why we were here, and what we said and did and thought and dreamed and yearned for. We wrapped our dreams in words and patterned the words so that they would live forever, unforgettable. Then we sent the poem as a pattern of flux, to wait in the heart of a star, beaming out its message in pulses and bursts and fuzzes across the electromagnetic spectrum, until the time when, on worlds a thousand sun systems distant, the pattern would be decoded and read, and it would become a poem once again.
Neil Gaiman
I have nothing to complain of. For three days I have tramped the desert, have known the pangs of thirst, have followed false scents in the sand, have pinned my faith on the dew. I have struggled to rejoin my kind, whose very existence on earth I had forgotten. These are the cares of men alive in every fibre, and I cannot help thinking them more important than the fretful choosing of a night-club in which to spend the evening. Compare the one life with the other, and all things considered this is luxury! I have no regrets. I have gambled and lost. It was all in the day's work. At least I have had the unforgettable taste of the sea on my lips. I am not talking about living dangerously. Such words are meaningless to me. The toreador does not stir me to enthusiasm. It is not danger I love. I know what I love. It is life.
Antoine de Saint-Exupéry (Wind, Sand and Stars)
To grow up steeped in these tellings was to learn two unforgettable lessons: first, that stories were not true (there were no "real" genies in bottles or flying carpets or wonderful lamps), but by being untrue they could make him feel and know truths that the truth could not tell him, and second, that they all belonged to him, just as they belonged to his father, Anis, and to everyone else, they were all his, as they were hsi father's, bright stories and dark stories, sacred stories and profane, his to alter and renew and discard and pick up again as and when he pleased, his to laugh at and rejoice in and live in and with and by, to give the stories life by loving them and to be given life in return. Man was the storytelling animal, the only creature on earth that told itself stories to understand what kind of creature it was. The story was his birthright, and nobody could take it away.
Salman Rushdie (Joseph Anton: A Memoir)
The Light in the Labyrinth is a beautifully written book, a gem. I savoured every word; words written with so much ‘colour’. Even though I know the story of Queen Anne Boleyn, Dunn’s perspective on her last days is missing in so many other books of the genre. Dunn gives grace to the history and an honest, and very compassionate look at Anne’s last days. I cried in the end, shedding tears for the young Kate, Anne and her little Bess. I have not yet read a Tudor book that has moved me to tears, as this wonderful journey does. Dunn’s dedication and research shines through in this unforgettable book, a book not just for young readers, but also for all.” — Lara Salzano, avid Tudor reader.
Wendy J. Dunn (The Light in the Labyrinth)
Without anything being said, there were no women at our lunches. Not that we were talking pussy. Or not much. But it was a chaps thing. Seasoned observers all, we set the world, such as it was, to rights, offsetting our intellectual know-how with truly wondrous flights of fancy. It was at the time of the ruinous yet avoidable civil war in Angola, in which far too many people died, or, in our immortal parlance, became 'deadified.' It might have been anyone—actually, I [Christopher Hitchens] am sure it was our poet friend Craig Raine—who came up with the appalling yet unforgettable idea that there is a design flaw in the female form, and that the breasts and the buttocks really ought to be on the same side. For myself, I have oft been perplexed as to why our heads are where, in a truly just world, our penises really ought to be, and my arse is not located between my chin and my nose, allowing me mellifluously to talk out of it.
Craig Brown
Historically, dust jackets are a new concern for authors; you don't see them much before the 1920s. And dust jacket is a strange name for this contrivance, as if books had anything to fear from dust. If you store a book properly, standing up, then the jacket doesn't cover the one part of the book that is actually exposed to dust, which is the top of the pages. So a dust jacket is no such thing at all; it is really a sort of advertising wrapper, like the brown paper sheath on a Hershey's bar. On this wrapper goes the manufacturer's name, the ingredients--some blithering about unforgettable characters or gemlike prose or gripping narrative--and a brief summation of who does what to whom in our gripping, unforgettable, gemlike object.
Paul Collins (Sixpence House: Lost in a Town of Books)
It should be pointed out that certain correlative concepts retain their meaning, and possibly their foremost significance, if they are referred exclusively to man. One might, for example, speak of an unforgettable life or moment even if all men had forgotten it. If the nature of such a life or moment required that it be unforgotten, that predicate would not imply a falsehood but merely a claim not fulfilled by men, and probably also refer to a realm in which it is fulfilled: God’s remembrance.
Walter Benjamin (Muntadas: On Translation: The Audience)
when i go to bed i go to bed with the lights on" Every morning I look up at the moon and I think You are a kiddie-pool and I will drown in you. I think about field trips and cold cuts. I think about dividends and other words I don’t understand. I make five hundred lunches in advance. I want to be prepared. I want new shoes. I want them to be waterproof and unforgettable. I want the kind of resume that takes home all the prizes and a salary commensurate with thunderstorms. I want to believe that there are people in this world whose lives are the size of houses and their bills are paid on time and when they see birds in the sky they think that’s a nice thing to see. In my free time I clip coupons and put them in my wallet where I forget to redeem them and this gnaws at me day in and day out and when I close my eyes I can feel my heart and it is trembling.
Sasha Fletcher
The art of fiction has not changed much since prehistoric times. The formula for telling a powerful story has remained the same: create a strong character, a person of great strengths, capable of deep emotions and decisive action. Give him a weakness. Set him in conflict with another powerful character -- or perhaps with nature. Let his exterior conflict be the mirror of the protagonist's own interior conflict, the clash of his desires, his own strength against his own weakness. And there you have a story. Whether it's Abraham offering his only son to God, or Paris bringing ruin to Troy over a woman, or Hamlet and Claudius playing their deadly game, Faust seeking the world's knowledge and power -- the stories that stand out in the minds of the reader are those whose characters are unforgettable. To show other worlds, to describe possible future societies and the problems lurking ahead, is not enough. The writer of science fiction must show how these worlds and these futures affect human beings. And something much more important: he must show how human beings can and do literally create these future worlds. For our future is largely in our own hands. It doesn't come blindly rolling out of the heavens; it is the joint product of the actions of billions of human beings. This is a point that's easily forgotten in the rush of headlines and the hectic badgering of everyday life. But it's a point that science fiction makes constantly: the future belongs to us -- whatever it is. We make it, our actions shape tomorrow. We have the brains and guts to build paradise (or at least try). Tragedy is when we fail, and the greatest crime of all is when we fail even to try. Thus science fiction stands as a bridge between science and art, between the engineers of technology and the poets of humanity.
Ben Bova
Some people will tell you that Toronto, in the summer, is the nothing more than a cesspool of pollution, garbage, and the smells of a hundred ethnicities competing for top spot in a race won historically by curry, garlic, and the occasional cauldron of boiled cabbage. Take a walk down College Street West, Gerrard Street East, or the Danforth, and you'll see; then, they add—these people, complaining—that the stench is so pervasive, so incorrigible, nor merely for lack of wind, but for the ninety-nine percent humidity, which, after a rainstorm, adds an eradicable bottom-note of sweaty Birkenstocks and the organic tang of decaying plant life. This much is true; there is, however, more to the story. Take a walk down the same streets and you'll find racks of the most stunning saris—red with navy brocade, silver, canary, vermillion and chocolate; marts with lahsun and adrak, pyaz and pudina; windows of gelato, zeppole, tiramisu; dusty smoke shops with patio-bistros; you'll find dove-white statuary of Olympian goddesses, mobs in blue jerseys, primed for the World Cup—and more, still, the compulsory banter of couples who even after forty years can turn foul words into the bawdiest, more unforgettable laughter (and those are just the details). Beyond them is the container, the big canvas brushed with parks and valleys and the interminable shore; a backdrop of ferries and islands, gulls and clouds—sparkles of a million wave-tips as the sun decides which colours to leave on its journey to new days. No, Toronto, in the summer, is the most paradisiacal place in the world.
Kit Ingram (Paradise)
The French phrase “femme fatale” literally means “deadly woman,” which understates the human embodiment of lust and peril, that intoxicating allure of sex and death that makes these creatures so fascinating. The femme fatale is a sleek and sensuous creature, dangerous either physically or emotionally to her victims.
Dominique Mainon (Femme Fatale: Cinema's Most Unforgettable Lethal Ladies)
A woman named Cynthia once told me a story about the time her father had made plans to take her on a night out in San Francisco. Twelve-year-old Cynthia and her father had been planning the “date” for months. They had a whole itinerary planned down to the minute: she would attend the last hour of his presentation, and then meet him at the back of the room at about four-thirty and leave quickly before everyone tried to talk to him. They would catch a tram to Chinatown, eat Chinese food (their favourite), shop for a souvenir, see the sights for a while and then “catch a flick” as her dad liked to say. Then they would grab a taxi back to the hotel, jump in the pool for a quick swim (her dad was famous for sneaking in when the pool was closed), order a hot fudge sundae from room service, and watch the late, late show. They discussed the details over and over again before they left. The anticipation was part of the whole experience. This was all going according to plan until, as her father was leaving the convention centre, he ran into an old college friend and business associate. It had been years since they had seen each other, and Cynthia watched as they embraced enthusiastically. His friend said, in effect: “I am so glad you are doing some work with our company now. When Lois and I heard about it we thought it would be perfect. We want to invite you, and of course Cynthia, to get a spectacular seafood dinner down at the Wharf!” Cynthia’s father responded: “Bob, it’s so great to see you. Dinner at the wharf sounds great!” Cynthia was crestfallen. Her daydreams of tram rides and ice cream sundaes evaporated in an instant. Plus, she hated seafood and she could just imagine how bored she would be listening to the adults talk all night. But then her father continued: “But not tonight. Cynthia and I have a special date planned, don’t we?” He winked at Cynthia and grabbed her hand and they ran out of the door and continued with what was an unforgettable night in San Francisco. As it happens, Cynthia’s father was the management thinker Stephen R. Covey (author of The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People) who had passed away only weeks before Cynthia told me this story. So it was with deep emotion she recalled that evening in San Francisco. His simple decision “Bonded him to me forever because I knew what mattered most to him was me!” she said.5 One simple answer is we are unclear about what is essential. When this happens we become defenceless. On the other hand, when we have strong internal clarity it is almost as if we have a force field protecting us from the non-essentials coming at us from all directions. With Rosa it was her deep moral clarity that gave her unusual courage of conviction. With Stephen it was the clarity of his vision for the evening with his loving daughter. In virtually every instance, clarity about what is essential fuels us with the strength to say no to the non-essentials. Stephen R. Covey, one of the most respected and widely read business thinkers of his generation, was an Essentialist. Not only did he routinely teach Essentialist principles – like “The main thing is to keep the main thing the main thing” – to important leaders and heads of state around the world, he lived them.6 And in this moment of living them with his daughter he made a memory that literally outlasted his lifetime. Seen with some perspective, his decision seems obvious. But many in his shoes would have accepted the friend’s invitation for fear of seeming rude or ungrateful, or passing up a rare opportunity to dine with an old friend. So why is it so hard in the moment to dare to choose what is essential over what is non-essential?
Greg McKeown (Essentialism: The Disciplined Pursuit of Less)
This consideration takes us very close to what it is that makes Greek tragedy “tragic.” A play about an unambiguously heroic young woman, someone’s mother or sister or daughter, squaring off against an unambiguously villainous general or king, a man greedy for military renown or for power, would not be morally interesting. What gives Antigone and Agamemnon and other plays their special and unforgettable force is that they present the irresistible spectacle of two worldviews, each with its own force, harrowingly locked in irreducible conflict. And yet while the characters in these plays are unable to countenance, let alone accept, their opponents’ viewpoints, the audience is being invited to do just that—to weigh and compare the principles the characters adhere to, to reflect on the necessity of seeing the whole and on the difficulties of keeping the parts in equilibrium. Or, at least, to appreciate the costs of sacrificing some values for others, when the occasion demands.
Daniel Mendelsohn
In the years since the disaster, I often think of my friend Arturo Nogueira, and the conversations we had in the mountains about God. Many of my fellow survivors say they felt the personal presence of God in the mountains. He mercifully allowed us to survive, they believe, in answer to our prayers, and they are certain it was His hand that led us home. I deeply respect the faith of my friends, but, to be honest, as hard as I prayed for a miracle in the Andes, I never felt the personal presence of God. At least, I did not feel God as most people see Him. I did feel something larger than myself, something in the mountains and the glaciers and the glowing sky that, in rare moments, reassured me, and made me feel that the world was orderly and loving and good. If this was God, it was not God as a being or a spirit or some omnipotent, superhuman mind. It was not a God who would choose to save us or abandon us, or change in any way. It was simply a silence, a wholeness, an awe-inspiring simplicity. It seemed to reach me through my own feelings of love, and I have often thought that when we feel what we call love, we are really feeling our connection to this awesome presence. I feel this presence still when my mind quiets and I really pay attention. I don’t pretend to understand what it is or what it wants from me. I don’t want to understand these things. I have no interest in any God who can be understood, who speaks to us in one holy book or another, and who tinkers with our lives according to some divine plan, as if we were characters in a play. How can I make sense of a God who sets one religion above the rest, who answers one prayer and ignores another, who sends sixteen young men home and leaves twenty-nine others dead on a mountain? There was a time when I wanted to know that god, but I realize now that what I really wanted was the comfort of certainty, the knowledge that my God was the true God, and that in the end He would reward me for my faithfulness. Now I understand that to be certain–-about God, about anything–-is impossible. I have lost my need to know. In those unforgettable conversations I had with Arturo as he lay dying, he told me the best way to find faith was by having the courage to doubt. I remember those words every day, and I doubt, and I hope, and in this crude way I try to grope my way toward truth. I still pray the prayers I learned as a child–-Hail Marys, Our Fathers–-but I don’t imagine a wise, heavenly father listening patiently on the other end of the line. Instead, I imagine love, an ocean of love, the very source of love, and I imagine myself merging with it. I open myself to it, I try to direct that tide of love toward the people who are close to me, hoping to protect them and bind them to me forever and connect us all to whatever there is in the world that is eternal. …When I pray this way, I feel as if I am connected to something good and whole and powerful. In the mountains, it was love that kept me connected to the world of the living. Courage or cleverness wouldn’t have saved me. I had no expertise to draw on, so I relied upon the trust I felt in my love for my father and my future, and that trust led me home. Since then, it has led me to a deeper understanding of who I am and what it means to be human. Now I am convinced that if there is something divine in the universe, the only way I will find it is through the love I feel for my family and my friends, and through the simple wonder of being alive. I don’t need any other wisdom or philosophy than this: My duty is to fill my time on earth with as much life as possible, to become a little more human every day, and to understand that we only become human when we love. …For me, this is enough.
Nando Parrado
While we took the children off to Disneyland. A visit to this magical kingdom should be a compulsory part of being an American---who else on earth would put so much ingenuity into simply having fun? The rides were fabulous: a real life pirate ship with real life pirates; a roller coaster that tppk you inside the Matterhorn (that was my favourite); and the Haunted House, with its flickering lights and a moving floor. By the end of the day, our feet were aching and our voices were hoarse, but it was well worth it. We all had a tremendous time !
Sallyann J. Murphey (The Metcalfe Family Album: The Unforgettable Saga of an American Family)
Of all the streets that blur in to the sunset, There must be one (which, I am not sure) That I by now have walked for the last time Without guessing it, the pawn of that Someone Who fixes in advance omnipotent laws, Sets up a secret and unwavering scale for all the shadows, dreams, and forms Woven into the texture of this life. If there is a limit to all things and a measure And a last time and nothing more and forgetfulness, Who will tell us to whom in this house We without knowing it have said farewell? Through the dawning window night withdraws And among the stacked books which throw Irregular shadows on the dim table, There must be one which I will never read. There is in the South more than one worn gate, With its cement urns and planted cactus, Which is already forbidden to my entry, Inaccessible, as in a lithograph. There is a door you have closed forever And some mirror is expecting you in vain; To you the crossroads seem wide open, Yet watching you, four-faced, is a Janus. There is among all your memories one Which has now been lost beyond recall. You will not be seen going down to that fountain Neither by white sun nor by yellow moon. You will never recapture what the Persian Said in his language woven with birds and roses, When, in the sunset, before the light disperses, You wish to give words to unforgettable things. And the steadily flowing Rhone and the lake, All that vast yesterday over which today I bend? They will be as lost as Carthage, Scourged by the Romans with fire and salt. At dawn I seem to hear the turbulent Murmur of crowds milling and fading away; They are all I have been loved by, forgotten by; Space, time, and Borges now are leaving me.
Jorge Luis Borges
The simple answer is that I have changed my techniques in order to avoid the relentless sameness of my material, but I have probably only found new costumes, not new creatures entirely. In the past, if I wanted to sound a note on a piano (in prose), I didn’t just have to purchase and install the piano, I had to build it. But before I built it I had to grow the trees whose wood would yield the piano, and probably I had to create the soil and landscape through which those trees would burst. Then there was the problem of the fucking seeds. Where did they come from? I had to source them. With such mania I was either onto something or I completely misunderstood what a fiction writer was supposed to do. Simple things, even entirely undramatic ones, could not occur unless I created them from whole cloth. I was superstitious about taking anything for granted, but it also locked me into a kind of fanatical object fondling that could, on a bad day, preclude any exploration of the human (even though the process of trying to remake the world on the page is fairly, pathetically, human). This set of interests kept me away from what is usually called narrative. It wasn’t some ideological position, or an artistic stance, it was just one set of obsessions winning out over another. On the other hand, I think that I have always tried to create feeling, and then to pulse it into the reader with language. It’s very difficult to figure out how to do this. Storytelling is one way — conventional narrative or whatever you want to call it — but are there other methods worth exploring? The ground shifts, and I change my mind about what might work. How to create immense, unforgettable feeling from language? This ambition hasn’t really changed, it’s just that I want to cultivate new approaches, to try to circle in on a more vivid way to accomplish it.
Ben Marcus
That's what coming face-to-face with six months in the woods will do to you: as soon as you realize you have the chance to be a different person, you become one. You can forget who you are. This is no accident when you've spent miles wondering, with every labored step, Who is this person who has decided to try this?--wondering who you are. You have nothing but time to answer the question, to give a new account of yourself. Your only witness might be a blanket of cool moss on a sunny day, or a panorama of endless mountains, or a young doe gazing by the Trail. You've yet to discover that the journey is the destination. So you lose yourself, then you find yourself again, farther along.
Winton Porter (Just Passin' Thru: A Vintage Store, the Appalachian Trail, and a Cast of Unforgettable Characters)
At his leisure, the lieutenant allowed the unforgettable spectacle to engrave itself upon his mind. With one hand he fondled the hair, with the other he softly stroked the magnificent face, implanting kisses here and there where his eyes lingered. The quiet coldness of the high, tapering forehead, the closed eyes with their long lashes beneath faintly etched brows, the set of the finely shaped nose, the gleam of teeth glimpsed between full, regular lips, the soft cheeks and the small, wise chin… Wherever the lieutenant's eyes moved his lips faithfully followed. The high, swelling breasts, surmounted by nipples like the buds of a wild cherry, hardened as the lieutenant's lips closed about them. The arms flowed smoothly downward from each side of the breast, tapering toward the wrists, yet losing nothing of their roundness or symmetry…The natural hollow curving between the bosom and the stomach carried in its lines a suggestion not only of softness but of resilient strength, and while it gave forewarning to the rich curves spreading outward from here to the hips it had, in itself, an appearance only of restraint and proper discipline. The whiteness and richness of the stomach and hips was like milk brimming in a great bowl, and the sharply shadowed dip of the navel could have been the fresh impress of a raindrop, fallen there that very moment. Where the shadows gathered more thickly, hair clustered, gentle and sensitive, and as the agitation mounted in the now no longer passive body there hung over this region a scent like the smoldering of fragrant blossoms, growing steadily more pervasive… Passionately they held their faces close, rubbing cheek against cheek…Their breasts, moist with sweat, were tightly joined, and every inch of the young and beautiful bodies had become so much one with the other that it seemed impossible there should ever again be a separation…From the heights they plunged into the abyss, and from the abyss they took wing and soared once more to dizzying heights…As one cycle ended, almost immediately a new wave of passion would be generated, and together -with no trace of fatigue- they would climb again in a single breathless movement to the very summit.
Yukio Mishima (Patriotism)
As I became older, I was given many masks to wear. I could be a laborer laying railroad tracks across the continent, with long hair in a queue to be pulled by pranksters; a gardener trimming the shrubs while secretly planting a bomb; a saboteur before the day of infamy at Pearl Harbor, signaling the Imperial Fleet; a kamikaze pilot donning his headband somberly, screaming 'Banzai' on my way to my death; a peasant with a broad-brimmed straw hat in a rice paddy on the other side of the world, stooped over to toil in the water; an obedient servant in the parlor, a houseboy too dignified for my own good; a washerman in the basement laundry, removing stains using an ancient secret; a tyrant intent on imposing my despotism on the democratic world, opposed by the free and the brave; a party cadre alongside many others, all of us clad in coordinated Mao jackets; a sniper camouflaged in the trees of the jungle, training my gunsights on G.I. Joe; a child running with a body burning from napalm, captured in an unforgettable photo; an enemy shot in the head or slaughtered by the villageful; one of the grooms in a mass wedding of couples, having met my mate the day before through our cult leader; an orphan in the last airlift out of a collapsed capital, ready to be adopted into the good life; a black belt martial artist breaking cinderblocks with his head, in an advertisement for Ginsu brand knives with the slogan 'but wait--there's more' as the commercial segued to show another free gift; a chef serving up dog stew, a trick on the unsuspecting diner; a bad driver swerving into the next lane, exactly as could be expected; a horny exchange student here for a year, eager to date the blonde cheerleader; a tourist visiting, clicking away with his camera, posing my family in front of the monuments and statues; a ping pong champion, wearing white tube socks pulled up too high and batting the ball with a wicked spin; a violin prodigy impressing the audience at Carnegie Hall, before taking a polite bow; a teen computer scientist, ready to make millions on an initial public offering before the company stock crashes; a gangster in sunglasses and a tight suit, embroiled in a turf war with the Sicilian mob; an urban greengrocer selling lunch by the pound, rudely returning change over the counter to the black patrons; a businessman with a briefcase of cash bribing a congressman, a corrupting influence on the electoral process; a salaryman on my way to work, crammed into the commuter train and loyal to the company; a shady doctor, trained in a foreign tradition with anatomical diagrams of the human body mapping the flow of life energy through a multitude of colored points; a calculus graduate student with thick glasses and a bad haircut, serving as a teaching assistant with an incomprehensible accent, scribbling on the chalkboard; an automobile enthusiast who customizes an imported car with a supercharged engine and Japanese decals in the rear window, cruising the boulevard looking for a drag race; a illegal alien crowded into the cargo hold of a smuggler's ship, defying death only to crowd into a New York City tenement and work as a slave in a sweatshop. My mother and my girl cousins were Madame Butterfly from the mail order bride catalog, dying in their service to the masculinity of the West, and the dragon lady in a kimono, taking vengeance for her sisters. They became the television newscaster, look-alikes with their flawlessly permed hair. Through these indelible images, I grew up. But when I looked in the mirror, I could not believe my own reflection because it was not like what I saw around me. Over the years, the world opened up. It has become a dizzying kaleidoscope of cultural fragments, arranged and rearranged without plan or order.
Frank H. Wu (Yellow: Race in America Beyond Black and White)
He’d promised she would be “safe,” which she now realized left a great deal of room for personal interpretation. “If I’m going to remain,” she said uneasily, “I think we ought to agree to observe all the proprieties and conventions.” “Such as?” “Well, for a beginning, you really shouldn’t be calling me by my given name.” “Considering the kiss we exchanged in the arbor last night, it seems a little absurd to call you Miss Cameron.” It was the time to tell him she was Lady Cameron, but Elizabeth was too unstrung by his reference to those unforgettable-and wholly forbidden-moments in his arms to bother with that. “That isn’t the point,” she said firmly. “The point is that although last night did happen, it must not influence our behavior today. Today we ought-ought to be twice as correct in our behavior,” she continued, a little desperately and illogically, “to atone for what happened last night!” “Is that how it’s done?” he asked, his eyes beginning to glint with amusement. “Somehow I didn’t quite imagine you allowed convention to dictate your every move.” To a gambler without ties or responsibility, the rules of social etiquette and convention must be tiresome in the extreme, and Elizabeth realized it was imperative to convince him he must yield to her viewpoint. “Oh, but I am,” she prevaricated. “The Camerons are the most conventional people in the world! As you know from last night, I believe in death before dishonor. We also believe in God and country, motherhood and the king, and…and all the proprieties. We’re quite intolerably boring on the subject, actually.” “I see,” he said, his lips twitching. “Tell me something,” he asked mildly, “why would such a conventional person as yourself have crossed swords with a roomful of men last night in order to protect a stranger’s reputation?” “Oh, that,” Elizabeth said. “That was just-well, my conventional notion of justice. Besides,” she said, her ire coming to the fore as she recalled the scene in the card room last night, “it made me excessively angry when I realized that the only reason none of them would try to dissuade Lord Everly from shooting you was because you were not their social equal, while Everly is.” “Social equality?” he teased with a lazy, devastating smile. “What an unusual notion to spring from such a conventional person as yourself.” Elizabeth was trapped, and she knew it. “The truth is,” she said shakily, “that I am scared to death of being here.” “I know you are,” he said, sobering, “but I am the last person in the world you’ll ever have to fear.
Judith McNaught (Almost Heaven (Sequels, #3))