Quotes About Memory

What you are doing on stage is the most important thing in the world at the present moment; and your memory must tell you how it is to be done.

His nerve, his memory, and I can't remember the third thing

Every dead hope is a phantom that grimaces over its tomb.

Memory's oldest trick is convincing us of its accuracy.

Every story is true and a lie. The true part of this one is: Love and the memory of love can't be drowned. The lie part is that this is a good thing.

whenever people meet you, they take an instant mental snapshot. That image of you becomes the data they deal with for a very long time.

Memory could be a terrible thing .. an instrument of torture that persists in its work long after a man has suffered his time upon the rack.

People don't become better when they're dead; you just talk about them as if they are.

Those unable to catalog the past are doomed to repeat it.

What happens in a certain place can stain your feelings for that location, just as ink can stain a white sheet. You can wash it, and wash it, and still never forget what has transpired - a word which here means 'happened, and made everybody sad'.

For Beatrice--My love for you shall live forever. You, however, did not.

It is much, much worse to receive bad news through the written word than by somebody simply telling you, and I'm sure you understand why. When somebody simply tells you bad news, you hear it once, and that's the end of it. But when bad news is written down, whether in a letter or a newspaper or on your arm in felt tip pen, each time you read it, you feel as if you are receiving the bad news again and again.

For Beatrice, when we first met, I was lonely, and you were pretty. Now I am pretty lonely.

For Beatrice, our love broke my heart, and stopped yours.

For Beatrice - you will always be in my mind, in my heart and in your grave.

What happens in a certain place can stain your feelings for that location, just as ink can stain a white sheet.

To Beatrice- My love flew like a butterfly Until death swooped down like a bat As the poet Emma Montana McElroy said: 'That's the end of that

Sometimes you can't really tell when you are happy until it is over and you are thinking about it later

But sometimes it takes only a photograph and a sentence to make an author cry himself to sleep even years after the photograph was taken.

For Beatrice- I would much prefer it if you were alive and well.

To Beatrice- darling, dearest, dead.

For Beatrice — I cherished, you perished, The world's been nightmarished.

I will love you as we find ourselves farther and farther from one another, where once we were so close that we could slip the curved straw, and the long, slender spoon, between our lips and fingers respectively. I will love you until the chances of us running into one another slip form slim to zero, and until your face is fogged by distant memory.

Perhaps I had been in another world before I was born, and did not remember it, or perhaps I would see another world when I died, which I was in no hurry to do.