A Quote by Paula Radcliffe

No one remembers who came fourth. — © Paula Radcliffe
No one remembers who came fourth.
Spring passes and one remembers one's innocence. Summer passes and one remembers one's exuberance. Autumn passes and one remembers one's reverence. Winter passes and one remembers one's perseverance.
Now the autumn shudders In the rose's root. Far and wide the ladders Lean among the fruit. Now the autumn clambers Up the trellised frame, And the rose remembers The dust from which it came. Brighter than the blossom On the rose's bough Sits the wizened orange, Bitter berry now; Beauty never slumbers; All is in her name; But the rose remembers The dust from which it came.
No one remembers who came in second.
I got a fortune cookie that said, "To remember is to understand." I have never forgotten it. A good judge remembers what it was like to be a lawyer. A good editor remembers being a writer. A good parent remembers what it was like to be a child.
It is not simply what one remembers, but why. There are sites of amputation where the past is severed from the body of the present. Remembering only encourages the growth of phantom limbs. And it is not simply what one remembers, or why, but what to do with what one remembers, which of the scattered pieces to carry forward, what to protect and preserve, what to leave behind.
Nobody remembers who came in second.
I think as humans, no one remembers their successes, everyone just remembers their failures.
A diplomat is a man who always remembers a woman's birthday but never remembers her age.
History remembers only the celebrated, genealogy remembers them all.
Life is not what one lived, but what One remembers and how One remembers it in order to recount it
When I started writing, the deal was that publishers gave you a grand or two as an advance to buy some sweets, with the promise that they would make a big putsch with your fourth book when you'd built up a bit of a following. But by the time my fourth book came out, previously unpublished authors were the new big thing.
Everyone who remembers his own education remembers teachers, not methods and techniques. The teacher is the heart of the educational system.
The mind remembers only certain things. The body remembers everything. The information it carries goes back to the beginning of existence.
Beauty never slumbers; All is in her name; But the rose remembers The dust from which it came.
Everyone remembers the winner; nobody remembers who finishes second. But quite a lot, I seem to be right around the hunt with nine holes to play.
The north remembers, Lord Davos. The north remembers, and the mummer’s farce is almost done. My son is home.
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