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| Grocott & Ward, comps. Grocott’s Familiar Quotations, 6th ed. 189-?. |
| Forget |
| New-made honour doth forget men’s names; ’Tis too respective, and too sociable. Shakespeare.—King John, Act I. Scene 1. (The Bastard.) | 1 |
| I am glad to see you well, Horatio—or I do forget myself. Shakespeare.—Hamlet, Act I. Scene 2. (Hamlet.) | 2 |
| Men are men; the best sometimes forget. Shakespeare.—Othello, Act II. Scene 3. (Iago to Othello.) | 3 |
| We like not this; thou dost forget thyself. Shakespeare.—King John, Act III. Scene 1. (The King to the Bastard.) | 4 |
| Steep my senses in forgetfulness. Shakespeare.—King Henry IV., Part II. Act III. Scene 1. (The King.) | 5 |
| Forget thyself to marble. Milton.—Il Penseroso. | 6 |
| Though cold like you, unmov’d and silent grown, I have not yet forgot myself to stone. Pope.—Eloisa to Abelard, Line 23. | 7 |
| Of all affliction taught a lover yet, ’Tis sure the hardest science to forget! Pope.—Eloisa to Abelard, Line 189. | 8 |
| How happy is the blameless vestal’s lot; The world forgetting, by the world forgot! Pope.—Eloisa to Abelard, Line 207. | 9 |
| Have you forgot all sense of place and duty? Shakespeare.—Othello, Act II. Scene 3. (Iago rebuking the Lieutenant and Sir Montano for the brawl.) | 10 |
| Can a woman forget her sucking child? Isaiah, Chap. xlix. Ver. 15. | 11 |
| Can the fond mother from herself depart, Can she forget the darling of her heart, The little darling whom she bore and bred, Nurs’d on her knees and at her bosom fed? Churchill.—Gotham, Book III. | 12 |
| The bridegroom may forget the bride Was made his wedded wife yestreen; The monarch may forget the crown That on his head an hour has been; The mother may forget the child That smiles sae sweetly on her knee; But I’ll remember thee, Glencairn, And all that thou hast done for me! Burns.—Lament for Glencairn. | 13 |
| For who, to dumb forgetfulness a prey, This pleasing, anxious being e’er resign’d; Left the warm precincts of the cheerful day, Nor cast one longing, lingering look behind. Gray.—Elegy, Verse 22. | 14 |
| In the infinite meadows of heaven Blossomed the lovely stars, the forget-me-nots of the Angels. Longfellow.—Evangeline, I. iii. | 15 |
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