Quotes About Memory

When I Am Dead, My Dearest When I am dead, my dearest, Sing no sad songs for me; Plant thou no roses at my head, Nor shady cypress-tree: Be the green grass above me With showers and dewdrops wet; And if thou wilt, remember, And if thou wilt, forget. I shall not see the shadows, I shall not feel the rain; I shall not hear the nightingale Sing on, as if in pain: And dreaming through the twilight That doth not rise nor set, Haply I may remember, And haply may forget.

Ah me, but where are now the songs I sang When life was sweet because you call'd them sweet?

Where are the songs I used to know, Where are the notes I used to sing? I have forgotten everything I used to know so long ago. ("The Key-Note")

Yet if you should forget me for a while And afterwards remember, do not grieve: For if the darkness and corruption leave A vestige of thoughts that I once had, Better by far you should forget and smile Than that you should remember and be sad.

Yet come to me in dreams, that I may live My very life again though cold in death; Come back to me in dreams, that I may give Pulse for pulse, breath for breath: Speak low, lean low, As long ago, my love, how long ago

Should one of us remember, And one of us forget, I wish I knew what each will do– But who can tell as yet?" Should one of us remember, And one of us forget, I promise you what I will do– And I'm content to wait for you, And not be sure as yet.

Do you dream of me?" you said. My heart was dust that used to leap to you—

To-morrow,' cried they, one and all, While no one spoke of yesterday. 20 Their life stood full at blessed noon; I, only I, had passed away: 'To-morrow and to-day,' they cried; I was of yesterday.

Borderlines have negative thoughts because they have negative feelings about themselves and others. Memory difficulties, difficulty focusing attention, confused and disorganized thinking, the inability to reason logically, morbid introspection, and intrusively negative thoughts are common

Ces jeux de mémoire me réservent mille tentations de détours.

In scripture, remembering falsely or forgetting entirely is often associated with an absence of gratitude. One of the saddest judgments passed on people in Scripture is that they didn't remember God's steadfast love.

Vetëm kur na ndodh që e humbasim diçka, e kthejmë kokën pas dhe fillojmë t'ia ndiejmë mungesën.

After a few minutes, though, I started to take in what all the attendees were looking at: hundreds and hundreds of historical documents, self-published books, CD-ROMs with lists of lists of names, databases chock-full of people who had once lived and whom no living person now remembered. Everyone in this hall was looking for someone who was gone forever.

Goldin-Meadow and her colleagues found that when the experimental subjects gestured during their explanation, they later remembered more from the word list than when they did not gesture. She noted that while people tend to think of gesturing as reflecting an individual's mental state, it appears that gesture contributes to shaping that state. In the case of her subjects, their gesturing somehow lightened the mental load, allowing them to devote more resources to memory.

We have rooms in ourselves. Most of them we have not visited yet. Forgotten rooms. From time to time we can find the passage. We find strange things . . . old phonographs, pictures, books . . . they belong to us, but it is the first time we have found them.

Iemand anders sal dié storie ook moet vertel om geloofwaardigheid daaraan te gee; die storie kan nie net teer op herinnering wat dit plooi na die eise van die hede nie.

It's amazing that a man who is dead can talk to people through these pages. As long as this books survives, his ideas live.

People have an annoying habit of remembering things they shouldn't.

I tried. I tried to burn that memory of my regret. But I wasn't dead yet, I was just on my way to dying, and it's harder to burn memories when you've still got life left. When you're alive you have to learn how to live with things like regret.

That's what love hotels are for." "I know," says Ai, "but this man comes alone. He says he comes to this room and thinks about the lovers who have been here before him, imagines himself as one of them, imagines himself having someone to hold. He tells whoever is reading this that he's grateful for the love we share without knowing.

He was all surface, written on by those who'd pass him, like a love hotel diary.

Jarrod frowned like he felt bad for me, and I thought I saw maybe even a hint of tears in his eyes, like he was attending the funeral of a good friend who had died in an accident, and was looking down at his dead body, thinking, That's not him, the way I'd thought when I saw my grandmother in her casket, all made up with colors she'd have never chosen for herself had she been alive.

History is made not simply with events, but by remembering those events, a double drumbeat like a heartbeat. History can be written not only with books but with ceremonies. Yet a real event read about in a newspaper is not always more important than a fictional one in a novel or play or poem.

Yeats was straight, but as Auden wrote in 'In Memory of WB Yeats': "You were silly like us.