A Lucky Child is an extraordinary story, simply and beautifully told. Heartbreaking and thrilling, it examines what it means to be human, in every good and awful sense. Perhaps most amazingly of all, Thomas Buergenthal remembers and renders the small mysteries and grand passions of childhood, even a childhood lived under the most horrific circumstances.
Whether or not you choose to keep your covenant to always remember Him, He always remembers you.
You can't get something for nothing. Everybody remembers this except politicians.
Wrongs are often forgiven, but contempt never is. Our pride remembers it forever.
The present has its élan because it is always on the edge of the unknown and one misunderstands the past unless one remembers that this unknown was once part of its nature.
I wanted my photographs to be as powerful as the last thing a person sees or remembers before death.
Nobody remembers the guy who finished second but the guy who finished second.
Spring passes and one remembers one's innocence.
it is only when no one remembers that you are truly lost. That is the true death.
A real man is one who remembers the lady's birthday, but never knows how old she is. A man who never remembers her birthday, but knows exactly how old she is, - is her husband.
He remembers the five rules of combat set down by Chuan Tzu - faith, companions, time, space and strategy.
Every man remembers his childhood as a kind of mythical age, just as every nation's childhood is its mythical age.
America remembers. On this 12th anniversary of the 911 attacks, the nation honors those who were lost.
. . . the Lord Jesus said, 'To those who are in bonds, Come out, and to those who are in prison, Go forth' (Isa. 49:9); so your sins are forgiven. All, then, are forgiven, nor is there any one whom He has not loosed. For thus it is written, that He has forgiven 'all transgressions, doing away with the handwriting of the ordinance that was against us' (Col. 2:13-14). Why, then, do we hold the bonds of others, while we enjoy our own remission? He, who forgave all, required of all that what every one remembers to have been forgiven to himself, he also should forgive others.
One of the saddest things in life, is the things one remembers.
It is lovely, when I forget all birthdays, including my own, to find that somebody remembers me.
We exist as long as somebody remembers us.
When I'm right, no one remembers. When I am wrong, no one forgets.
Nobody remembers second place.
The less one remembers about the day before, the more the new day will be unfettered by triviality.