Quotes About Memory

I just think it's patently absurd for scientists to categorize objects on the basis of the numbers of objects that they can remember.

We have persistant objects, they're called files.

The obligation to remember is inscribed on every Holocaust memorial, but even the words 'Never Forget' become irksome eventually.

Those who try to obliterate the past are injuring the present.

We are born, we live, we disappear. One of the chilling aspects of history is the swiftness with which it carries us into oblivion.

My mom used to call me Bliv - as in oblivious.

Imagination is really dependent on memory and observation, these things that we think of as part of nonfiction writing, actually.

What happens so often as an actor is that you retain the information about the scenes that you yourself shot and you obsess over certain scenes that you found the most challenging or interesting. The rest of the film kind of falls away in your memory or it fades a little bit.

I'm really obsessed with the past.

I have a very distinct memory of 'ExciteBike' and making my own courses. I had an obsession with that game.

It's obvious that my brain isn't what it used to be.

I wanted the new Green Arrow to somehow sense his long, brutal past. It's like someone who has past lives they can't remember but feels occasional flashes of.

Occasionally, I have to think like myself to remember where I put something.

Occasionally people will look at me and do a double take and they'll look at me like they're trying to think where they know me from.

Invention and memory are so close together in the place they occupy in my brain.

But years ago I had known the river when it flowed through this now dry channel, so I could enliven its stony remains with the waters of memory.

That was how the tears went down Cherry's face...a teaspoon full of ten years' sorrow.

You know," he laughed easily, "with all the goddam drinkin' Ah've done, Ah still can't remember the taste of it unless Ah got the bottle right with me.

Where, in what cemetery of the heavens, did the tender words of lovers rest when they loved no longer?

Brenda was six when she fell out of the apple tree.

his memory, like a battered drunk at the end of a spree, groped over the events of the last six weeks.

She had built up a lot of control over all these months, but suddenly it just hurt so bad that she bawled right there at the table, two seconds after she saw the broken ring. It was the first real big cry she'd had about Gary in a long time, a month or so. She was not sure there was any such thing anymore as Gary. She didn't know if that was where her belief rested. He was a lot out of her mind. He might really be dead.

The years pass into the years and we count our time in lonely private rhythms which have little to do with number or judgment or the uncertain shifting memory of friends.

Hey, there's a place in the darkness. You know what I mean? I think I met you there. I knew you there.