Quotes About Memory

Tarihleri hat?rlamam? istiyorlar. Aman Tanr?m! Ömrümde böyle bir ÅŸey yapmad?m, ÅŸimdi nas?l baÅŸlayay?m?

yorgun gözlerimi kapay?p çevremdeki dünyay?, tepemdeki güneÅŸi unuttum. Onun bana geri gelmesini bekledim. Ah, sevgilim! Sevgilim! Art?k sana içimi dökebilirim! Sanki daha dün ayr?lm???z gibi, sanki daha dün senin o güzel elin elimdeydi, sanki en son dün görmüÅŸtüm seni. Sevgilim! Sevgilim!

A confused sensation of having suddenly lost my familiarity with the past, without acquiring any additional clearness of idea in reference to the present or the future, took possession of my mind. Circumstances that were but a few days old, faded back in my memory, as if they had happened months and months since.

mong the hundred thousand mysterious influences which a man exercises over a woman who loves him, I doubt if there is any more irresistible to her than the influence of his voice. I am not one of those women who shed tears on the smallest provocation: it is not in my temperament, I suppose. But when I heard that little natural change in his tone my mind went back (I can't say why) to the happy day when I first owned that I loved him. I burst out crying.

The past is not dead. Indeed, it is often not even past.

History," [Voltaire] concludes, "is after all nothing but a pack of tricks which we play upon the dead";40 we transform the past to suit our wishes for the future, and in the upshot "history proves that anything can be proved by history.

To rise again - to be the same person that you were - you must have your memory perfectly fresh and present; for it is memory that makes your identity. If your memory be lost, how will you be the same man? Why do mankind flatter themselves that they alone are gifted with a spiritual and immortal principle? Perhaps from their inordinate vanity. I am persuaded that if a peacock could speak he would boast of his soul, and would affirm that it inhabited his magnificent tail.

History, said Bacon, is the planks of a shipwreck; more of the past is lost than has been saved.

It is memory that classifies and interprets sensations into perceptions, and perceptions into ideas; but memory is an accretion. That unity of the mind which Kant thinks native (the "transcendental unity of apperception") is acquired—and not by all; and can be lost as well as won—in amnesia, or alternating personality, or insanity. Concepts are an achievement, not a gift.

Such was the end of our friend, whom I may truly call the wisest, the justest, and best of all the men whom I have ever known.

Memory is the hotel curtain that never completely closes. Memory always lets in just enough light to fill the room and ruin your sleep.

That is the way a white man remembers a battle. So many soldiers here, so many there. Such a captain here. Such a lieutenant there. This colonel in one place. That major in another. The horses precisely here, the cannon exactly there. But not an Indian. An Indian remembers where his mother fell bayoneted, or his little brother had his skull smashed, or his big sister cried for mercy and was shot in the mouth.

Always carry a notebook. And I mean always. The short-term memory only retains information for three minutes; unless it is committed to paper you can lose an idea forever.

Lawyers never forget. - Christine McCall

And then you're old, and your life is like a book you read too quickly. All you can remember are a few scattered images and random thoughts. No sense of the whole.

It was like picking a scab off a sore; he actually wanted scar tissue - it would be quite wrong to try and forget, to blank it all out. Every fraught memory that lurked here had played its role: everything he was today was an indirect result of the life he had led then. It confirmed the rightness of every step he had taken.

I wasn't feeling grief: that hellish chest-crammed agony you feel - but some portion of my brain activated by the memory decided to trigger the tear ducts

All family histories, personal histories,are as sketchy and unreliable as histories of the Phoenicians, it seems to me. We should note everything down, fill in the wide gaps if we can. Which is why I am writing this my darlings.

No defeat is made up entirely of defeat—since the world it opens is always a place formerly unsuspected. A world lost, a world unsuspected beckons to new places and no whiteness (lost) is so white as the memory of whiteness .

Our dreams have been assaulted by a memory that will not sleep

If you are not already too blind too deaf, too lost in the past to know or to care— I will write a book about you— making you live (in a book!) as you still desperately want to live— to live always—unforgiving

Memory is a kind of accomplishment, a sort of renewal even an initiation, since the spaces it opens are new places inhabited by hordes heretofore unrealized, of new kinds? since their movements are towards new objectives (even though formerly they were abandoned).

Never was his remarkable memory more useful than when he could see mathematics only in his mind's eye.

My mother is a fish.