Quotes About Memory

The Foundational Theory of Chronodiegetics Within a science fictional space, memory and regret are, when taken together, the set of necessary and sufficient elements required to produce a time machine.

The individual events of your life will be transmuted into another substance called memory and in the mechanism something will be lost and you will never be able to reverse it, you will never again have the original moment back in its uncategorized, preprocessed state. It will force you to move on and you will not have a choice in the matter.

This is what I remember: (i) the little pocket of space he creates for me, (ii) how it is enough, (iii) the sound of his voice,

The key question of time travel," my father says, "is this: How do we know what it means to perceive an event as presently occurring, rather than as a memory of a past event? How can we tell present from past? And how do we move the infinitesimal window

Time is a machine: it will convert your pain into experience. Raw data will be compiled, will be translated into a more comprehensible language. The individual events of your life will be transmuted into another substance called memory and in the mechanism something will be lost and you will never be able to reverse it, you will never again have the original moment back in its uncategorized, preprocessed state. It will force you to move on and you will not have a choice in the matter.

emotional muscle memory,

Don't vajazzle our memories

Charlie is already outdated, Zheraldin! Sooner or later, instead of white silk to the scene, you will have to wear black to go to my grave. Now I do not want to bother. Only from time to time look in the mirror, there will see me. My blood runs in your veins. I even when in my veins the blood dried up, not to forget his father – Charlie. I was not an angel, but as far as could be stremyah to be a man. Try it and you.

THIS IS WHERE ARRAN HARPER FELL. WE DON'T KNOW THE DAY OR THE DATE, BUT WE'LL NEVER FORGET IT. HE WAS THE BRAVEST OF US ALL.

After Arran died we could've fallen apart. But we didn't. Because you held it together. "Arran Lives" - you remember that?" "I remember." "He lived in you, Max. You done well. I like you. You're cool.

I think you just assume that your memory is just sort of a video playback of your experience, but it's nothing like that at all. It's a complete refabrication of an event and a lot of it is made up, because you're filling in spaces.

Meet me in Montauk...

Their past is my present, and when I look at them I can hear their voices quite clearly, just the way they were, every one of them, every single one. I love the sound of children's voices, especially in the early morning, the sound of their half-whispered chatter and their secret laughter.

I envy your peace of mind, your clean conscience, your unpolluted memory. Little girl, a memory without blot or contamination must be an exquisite treasure an inexhaustible source of pure refreshment: is it not?

Memory in youth is active and easily impressible in old age it is comparatively callous to new impressions, but still retains vividly those of earlier years.

Words are so very difficult to take back and forget. Memories fade with time, but words never do. They linger in our minds, our hearts, haunting us.

Beth…Beth… He whispered her name in his mind, unwilling to break the spell that surrounded them with any sound. He did not want to hear his voice; the only sounds he desired were the soft inhalations of Beth's breath, her sighs of pleasure, the brush of his body and hers as he loved her. She was beautiful, so perfect. He wanted to sit back and feast his eyes on her, sear her into his memory, lying like this, waiting for him.

And, for her father, it seemed as if it were a home-like, comfortable thought to him, that her mother had one of her children with her. He called her the first link of his Daisy Chain drawn up out of sight; and, during the quiet days that ensued, he seemed as it were to be lifted above grief, dwelling upon hope.

I mean that memory and association come before comprehension, so that one ought to know all good things—fa—with familiarity before one can understand, because understanding does not make one love. Oh! one does that before, and, when the first little gleam, little bit of a sparklet of the meaning does come, then it is so valuable and so delightful.

A Quoi Bon Dire" Seventeen years ago you said Something that sounded like Good-bye; And everybody thinks that you are dead, But I. So I, as I grow stiff and cold To this and that say Good-bye too; And everybody sees that I am old But you. And one fine morning in a sunny lane Some boy and girl will meet and kiss and swear That nobody can love their way again, While over there You will have smiled, I shall have tossed your hair.

You were moon's eye to me pull and grained and mantling' - Praise Song For My Mother by Charlotte Mew

Except for the memories of his daughter and his son it was already as though he had never existed.

Without or­ganization, ideas, after some initial momentum, start losing their effect. They become routine, degenerate into conformity, and end up simply a memory. I raise this warning because too often, in this short but rich period of our revolution, many great initiatives have failed. They have been forgotten because of the lack of an organiza­tional apparatus needed to keep them going and bring them to frui­tion.

He had talked to hundreds of witnesses. And he knew that if someone felt pressured, they would try too hard, and their imagination would fill what their memory couldn't recover.