Quotes About Memory

I can still remember the first time I heard a Beatles song. It was the fall of 1964, my second year in an American school after my family moved back from overseas, and I was standing on the corner of 64th street and First Avenue with my friend Larry Campbell.

There stands the shadow of a glorious name.

Nothing stands out so conspicuously, or remains so firmly fixed in the memory, as something which you have blundered.

It is weird, the relationship between people and food. It's always deeper than you think. It always stands for something else.

I made three works about men in my life. But I had much more than three men. I never wrote about them.

A man's real possession is his memory. In nothing else is he rich, in nothing else is he poor.

A forty-year-old woman is only something to men who have loved her in her youth.

If a man knew what a woman never forgets, he would love her differently.

Personality in man is what is "not his own" . . . what come from outside, what he has learned, or reflects, all traces of exterior impressions left in the memory.

The years leech at a man's memories, even those he has vowed never to forget.

As long as art lives never shall I accept that men are truly dead.

What's wrong with musicals now is all the gifted men who've died of AIDS-who would otherwise be here today creating great theater.

There is great incongruity in this idea of monuments, since those to whom they are usually dedicated need no such recognition to embalm their memory; and any man who does, is not worthy of one.

Men forget everything; women remember everything. That's why men need instant replay in sports. They've already forgotten what's happened.

Memory is a great artist. For every man and for every woman it makes the recollection of his or her life a work of art and an unfaithful record.

Men die but sorrow never dies.

Many a man fails as an original thinker simply because his memory it too good.

When a man's stories are remembered, then he is immortal.

When good men die their goodness does not perish, But lives though they are gone. As for the bad, All that was theirs dies and is buried with them.

One learns little more about a man from the feats of his literary memory than from the feats of his alimentary canal.

I saw a great many men die afterwards, some suffering horribly, but I do not recall any death that affected me quite so much as that of this first victim in my platoon.

If man has one good memory to go by, that may be enough to save him.

In the democracy of the dead all men at last are equal. There is neither rank nor station nor prerogative in the republic of the grave.

Peace We passed their graves: The dead men there, Winners or losers, Did not care. In the dark They could not see Who had gained The victory.