Quotes About Memory

Bize geçmiÅŸi hat?rlamayanlar onu tekrar etmeye mahkumdur, denir, ama belki de bu daha iyidir. Belki de iyi olan tek ÅŸey budur; unutmay? baÅŸarmak.

No perderemos realmente lo que sentimos, si lo tenemos claramente en el espíritu.

most horrid sound in the world, that of the once-was: alive in the past, perishing in the present, a corpse made of dust in the future.

Most of it has probably gone into erad by now, but they may have a few terminal typescript manuscripts.

The most horrid sound in the world, that of the once-was: alive in the past, perishing in the present, a corpse made of dust in the future.

Maybe, he pondered as he ascended the stairs, that's my problem with Kathy. I can't remember our combined past: can't recall the days when we voluntarily lived with each other... now it's become an involuntary arrangement, derived God knows how from the past.

Tripping across a country pasture with Junie Black... spreading out a blanket on the hot, dry hillside, among the smells of grass and afternoon sun. No, not there. Is that gone, too? Hollow outward form instead of substance; the sun not actually shining, the day not actually warm at all but cold, gray and quietly raining.

Like a graveyard for soldiers, he thought morbidly as he moved about, feeling compressed by the smallness of the room. On a wicker table a copy of Proust's Remembrance of Things Past. "How far'd you get into it?" he asked her. "To Within a Budding Grove.

I once saw a ballgame.

The past is latent, is submerged, but still there, capable of rising to the surface once the later imprinting unfortunately - and against ordinary experience - vanished. The man contains - not the boy - but earlier men, he thought. History began a long time ago.

Además, nadie recordaba hoy por qué había estallado la guerrra, ni quién- Si alguien- había ganado.

There should be a monument somewhere, he thought, listing those who died in this. And, worse, those who didn't die. Who had to live on past death.

And when I gave my phone number the last two times I gave it wrong—another number. And to me the weirdest thing of all: at night phone numbers swim up into my mind that I never heard of before. I'm afraid to call them; I don't know why.

Our minds are occluded, deliberately, so that we can't see the prison world we're slaves in, which is created by a powerful magician-like evil deity, who, however, is opposed by a mysterious salvific entity which often takes trash forms, and who will restore our lost memories. This entity may even be an old wino.

He has integrated his early fears and guilts into one interwoven grid, the ship said to itself. There is no way I can serve up a pleasant memory to him because he instantly contaminates it.

Maybe you're an android, Officer Crams said. With a false memory, like they give them. Had you thought of that?

There is little future, Mike thought, for someone who is dead. There is, usually, only the past.

By the way, the town where Asklepios' sanitarium existed, I read now, is up in the mountains. Probably the climate was and is cool and moist; I read it's heavily wooded. I bet the stars are quite visible there. It's the place I yearn for. Out of memory.

What will survive of us is love. - from A Writer

So many things I had thought forgotten Return to my mind with stranger pain: Like letters that arrive addressed to someone Who left the house so many years ago. from "Why Did I Dream of You Last Night?

No,' he said, 'memory's a poor thing to have. It's your own real hair and mouth and arms and eyes and hands I want. I didn't know I could ever love anything so much...

I've just read it so much, it memorized itself.

Lyra remembered her visit to his house

She thought thought that without noticing that she'd thought it, and she soon forgot it, and only remembered it much later.