Quotes About Memory

Tapi, ini adalah hal paling mengerikan yang pernah ia lihat bahkan dari kejauhan sekalipun, dan ia menyadarinya pada momen ketika ia berjalan masuk, hal itu adalah sesuatu yang akan terus terngiang di benaknya, selamanya.

People who were born in '66 are nearly fifty? I know the show's fifty, but it seems like yesterday. Human years are different. I'd have guessed that Tim was twenty-five for thirty.

BUT, alas, the heart forgets; the heart is distracted; and Maytime passes; summer ends; the storms break over the rot-ripe orchards and the heart grows old; while the hours, the days, the months, and the years pile up and pile up, till the mind becomes too crowded, too confused: dust gathers in it; cobwebs multiply; the walls darken and fall into ruin and decay; the memory perishes...

Travel is wishing for one more bite of whatever that just was.

Atari's driving game Gran Trak 10 was the very first to have a store of ROM, but it did not use a chip to implement this memory. It stored sprite graphics in a matrix of diodes, each of which was placed individually on the printed circuit board.

Even the dead had names.

The flowers need watering the silver needs a shine. Daughter is a magnet drawn back to where she was last safe. She touches the tablecloth like a talisman. Tell me who I was. Tell me what I've become.

I remember unloading guns beneath a complex heaven

Memory is a funny thing. Makes you remember things that didn't really happen and forget things that did. I'm so scared I'll forget because if I forget all these things that happened then there will be no one on earth who remembers them. And if they're forgotten it's like they never happened. No one can prove it. Some writer said that people become our memories of them. So I guess if no one remembers you, then you weren't really here. - almost him

All the times I have suddenly realized that my parents are dead, even now, it still surprises me, to exist in the world while that which made me has ceased to exist.

Every year, the memories I have of my father become more faint, unclear, and distant. once they were vivid and true, then they became like photographs, and now they are more like photographs of photographs.

THE DEATH OF LEOPOLD GURSKY Leopold Gursky started dying on August 18, 1920. He died learning to walk. He died standing at the blackboard. And once, also, carrying a heavy tray. He died practicing a new way to sign his name. Opening a window. Washing his genitals in the bath. He died alone, because he was too embarrassed to phone anyone. Or he died thinking about Alma. Or when he chose not to.

Then I turned the page and at the top it said THINGS I MISS ABOUT M and there was a list of 15 things, and the first was THE WAY HE HOLDS THINGS. I did not understand how you can miss the way somebody holds things.

To touch and feel each thing in the world, to know it by sight and by name, and then to know it with your eyes closed so that when something is gone, it can be recognized by the shape of its absence. So that you can continue to possess the lost, because absence is the only constant thing. Because you can get free of everything except the space where things have been.

She was gone, and all that was left was the space where you'd grown around her, like a tree that grows around a fence.

The truth is that she told me she couldn't love me. When she said goodbye, she was saying goodbye forever. And yet. I made myself forget. I don't know why. I keep asking myself. But I did.

Without memories to cloud it, the mind perceives with absolute clarity. Each observation stands out in stark relief. In the beginning, when there's not yet a smudge, the slate still blank, there is only the present moment: each vital detail, shocked color, the fall of light. Like film stills. The mind relentlessly open to the world, deeply impressed, even hurt by it: not yet gauzed by memory.

These things are lost to oblivion like so much about so many who are born and die without anyone taking the time to write it all down. That Litvinoff had a wife who was so devoted is, to be frank, the only reason anyone knows anything about him at all.

I hadn't thought about it until just now, but the night Daniel rang our bell in the winter of 1970 was the end of November, the same time of year she died twenty-seven years later. I don't know what's that supposed to tell you; nothing, except that we take comfort in the symmetries we find in life because they suggest a design where there is none.

He had slept next to her for thirty-six years, and the mattress felt different without her weight, however slight, and without the rhythm of her breath the dark had no measure. There were times he woke feeling cold from the lack of the heat that once came from between her thighs and behind her knees. He might have even called her, if he could have momentarily forgotten that he already knew everything she could possibly say.

Every year, the memories I have of my father become more faint, unclear, and distant. once they were vivid and true, then they became like photographs, and now they are more like photographs of photographs. But sometimes, at rare moments, a memory of him will return to me with such suddenness and clarity that all the feeling I've pushed down for years springs out like a jack-in-the-box.

I though, So this is how they send the angel. Stalled at the age when she loved you most.

Atunci am v?zut-o. E ciudat ce poate urzi mintea când inima o îmboldeÈ™te. Ar?ta altfel decât mi-o aminteam eu. ?i totuÈ™i. Era aceeaÈ™i. Ochii: aÈ™a am recunoscut-o. Mi-am spus: "Vas?zic? aÈ™a È›i se arat? îngerul. Oprit la vârsta la carea te-a iubit cel mai mult.

She's kept her love for him as alive as the summer they first met. In order to do this, she's turned life away. Sometimes she subsists for days on water and air.