Quotes About Memory

The past changes a little every time we retell it.

You can persuade the quick to think again, but you cannot remake your reputation with the dead.

What for do we nail down the dead?

The story of my own childhood is a complicated sentence that I am always trying to finish, to finish and put behind me. It resists finishing, and partly this is because words are not enough; my early world was synesthetic, and I am haunted by the ghosts of my own sense impressions, which reemerge when I try to write, and shiver between the lines.

And so it came to pass, as you would imagine, since only the successful prophets are remembered.

Which of these Thomases saw the blow coming? There are moments when a memory moves right through you.

The dead are more faithful than the living. For better or worse, they do not leave you. They last out the longest night.

Forgetting is an art like other arts. It needs dedication and practice.

The only things he cannot remember are the things he never knew. His

was the king himself, solicitous for a mother-to-be, who had advised Rafe to send Helen to Kent, away from the pestilence: but now he has forgotten to ask after her.

History is always changing behind us, and the past changes a little every time we retell it.

Why does the future feel so much like the past, the uncanny clammy touch of it, the rustle of bridal sheet or shroud, the crackle of fire in a shuttered room? Like breath misting glass, like the nightingale's trace on the air, like a wreath of incense, like vapour, like water, like scampering feet and laughter in the dark.

In his family the dead were much discussed. He absorbed the content of these conversations and transmuted them into what passed for memory. This serves the purpose. The dead don't come back, to quibble or correct.

There are moments when a memory moves right through you. You shy, you duck, you run; or else the past takes your fist and actuates it, without the intervention of will. Suppose you have a knife in your fist? That's how murder happens.

The dead do not come back to complain of their burial. It is the living who are exercised about these matters.

istoria nu este trecutul, ci ceea ce r?mâne în ciur dup? ce veacurile au trecut prin el

Once, when Tom was over here, to tease Rose, I asked him, "Before she was born, can you remember? Were things just the same as they are these days? Did it still rain and get dark and all the stuff it does now? Did the sun go up and down in exactly the same way?" Yes," Tom said, and then he smiled at Rose and said, "No. Not really. Not exactly the same way.

Sed et anima hominis symphoniam in se habet et symphonizans est, unde etiam multotiens plantus educit, cum symphoniam audit, quoniam de patria in exilium se missam meminit.

But if they spoke of Bee, he believed he would not be able to bear it, and if they didn't, it might be equally terrible.

Amy Weitz had said that the dead seem to hang around for a while, as if to guide and comfort us, and then slowly disappear into an unapproachable distance. How did we let them go?

People are quick to make monuments of anything they live long enough to control.

Such beautiful scarlet hair....Why don't we call you 'Erza Scarlet'? It's the color of your hair, that way, I won't forget it!" -Jellal Fernandes

I remembered... It was the colour of your hair. Farewell...Erza. ~I'm Jellal Fernandez. What about you, Erza?(I'm Erza. Just Erza.) Well, that's kind of sad. Ohh!(Hey...What are you doing?!)It's such a pretty scarlet colour...I know! We'll give you the last name of Scarlet!(Erza...Scarlet) It's the colour of you hair! Nobody will ever forget that!~(Jellal...)

Do you remember how many breads you have eaten in your life?