Demented Quotes Novels & Stories

“Not the time, please.” “I’m just saying,” I continued, my voice flat and even. I kept my hands tucked into the oversized sleeves of my charcoal sweater so I wouldn’t pick at my cuticles. “Dumb implies a lack of intellectual capacity. Mr. Rivers has capacity; he just chooses to prioritize a frozen disc of vulcanized rubber over basic literacy.” “Excuse me?” The voice came from the chair to my left. It was deep, slightly raspy, and currently vibrating with enough irritation to make my skin itch.

He heaved a long and heavy sigh and was pensive for a moment before he explained, "You have a mental illness called Alzheimer's. That's why you don't remember a lot of things. Don't you have a notebook? Where is it?" She lowered her head and looked around—what notebook?

Not too old to get dementia. However, it is never applies to bad memories. Not. Even when those memories I want to forget so much, I always remember them. Life can’t be as what we want. There’s something can’t be easily forgotten, there are things that you most want to forget but still make an impression that you don't even want to disappear. "Why, Nad?" asked Arumi looking at me confused. The glass in his hand put on the table. Likewise Daniel, he occasionally directs his gaze to me, it's just that he is still busy serving food in front of him. I shook my head while smiling at her.

"I thought men liked that sort of thing-" "So we're done pretending you don't remember me?" He sounds smug like he thinks he has a win. "You mean, we're done playing your game of dementia," I corrected with a calm face. "Malcolm, I remember, yunno. I remember being kicked out of a house that I thought was my home for three whole years," I shrug still, wearing my smile and walking out of the desk to lean on it and fold my arms, lifting my eyes to the ceiling with a nostalgic smile on my face.

“He just got home a little while ago. Maybe he’s asleep already. He… had a bit to drink.” There was a pause on the other end. “Drunk?” Grandpa repeated. “Now I really need to speak with him.” I blinked. “Is something wrong?” “No. Not yet. But I need to speak with him before something is.” He sighed. “You know Damon’s not the type to drink without a reason. He despises the idea of dulling his mind. He says it’s for people who can’t face their own thoughts. He always told me drinking numbs the brain—weakens it.”

The older woman said. "...or dementia." I said. "No..no." The lady replied. "I've never heard that lack of air results in dementia." Then the single door in the room opened and the driver that had driven me to the tower, walked in with a bottle of schnapps in his hand. "Oh, there you are." He said as he burped, irritatingly. "Hi, do you know that leaving me in that goddamn limousine could have killed me?" I blurted out.

, She retorte "It's not even like I care what you do with your life, but we had an agreement, Vivian. We agreed that everyone was going to be indoors by 10:30pm. Why were you out till 12:30pm "We didn't have any agreement, douchebag. I know I'm drunk, but I'm not diagnosed with dementia. I remember not signing that useless document. And just to be clear, the fact that I'm living in your house doesn't mean you should try to boss my around. You're not my dad for crying out loud

I groaned out of frustration “I don’t have retentive memories .it died “ he said opening the doors to the cafeteria. “ what do you mean by he died, peoples bring don’t die like that except you’re an old person are you in your 50s? I had to ask because I remember my mom telling me that Her father ,my grandfather had amnesia when he was in his late 50s or early 50s and make them not remember things because their brain dies from all the stress and overthinking from the mafia works. So Marcus telling me that was very odd ,does that mean I was having a crush on an elderly man.

she said coldly. "He has FTD," I said, refusing to let her brush it aside. I explained quickly—Frontotemporal Degeneration, what it is, what it does. "He's suffering, even if he won't admit it. And he needs you, because soon he will forget everything, every beautiful memory you two shared before it all went to hell. He’ll forget the good man he once was to you, too. So I'm begging you, Mum, if you have even a sliver of human decency left, visit him before it's too late. That’s all I came to say."

"Sure! Instead of whiling away your time in there, you picked up new skills. I'm happy to hear that." The two then went into a room. Right before Woody entered the room, Sasha said in disdain, "Know your place! He has Alzheimer's disease, you know? It's an illness no professional in the world can cure. If massages could cure that, we wouldn't need hospitals or doctors anymore. You're such a joke. Don't you feel embarrassed at all?"