Quotes About Memory

A man will only be as long as his life but his name will be for all time.

When your friendship is forgotten your impacts will be remembered.

The facts of history have been too well rehearsed (I'm speaking needless to say not of written history but the oral kind that goes on in you without your having to do anything about it). . .

The room I entered was a dream of this room. Surely all those feet on the sofa were mine. The oval portrait of a dog was me at an early age. Something shimmers, something is hushed up. We had macaroni for lunch every day except Sunday, when a small quail was induced to be served to us. Why do I tell you these things? You are not even here.

It was Celeste, his mom. Only now she was younger than he was.

Memory is imagination, and imagination is memory. I don't think we remember the past, we imagine it. We take a few props with us into the future, and out of those props we make a model, some stage set, and that's our version of the past. Of course models decay, and they change. And so we're constantly reshaping the past. Because the past is us. The past is our foundation.

We imagine that we remember things as they were, while in fact all we carry into the future are fragments which reconstruct a wholly illusory past. That first death we witness will always be a murmur of voices down a corridor and a clock falling silent in the darkened room, the end of love is forever two spent cigarettes in a saucer and a white door closing.

This, I told myself, this is the way I shall be condemned to pass my days, turning over words, stray lines, fragments of memory, to see what might be lurking underneath them, as if they were so many flat stones, while I steadily faded.

The past, I mean the real past, matters less than we pretend.

Her mouth tasted of smoke and toothpaste and something feety that made my blood flare

Let us say, the present is where we live, while the past is where we dream.

There are moments when the past has a force so strong it seems one might be annihilated by it

The dead are my dark matter, filling up impalpably the empty spaces of the world.

It is in the forms of the living that the dead most convincingly haunt us.

We carry the dead with us only until we die too, and then it is we who are borne along for a little while, and then our bearers in turn drop, and so on into the unimaginable generations.

Przesz?o?? bije we mnie niczym drugie serce.

Thus in the minds of the many does the one ramify and disperse. It does not last, it cannot, it is not immortality. We carry the dead with us only until we die too, and then it is we who are borne along for a little while, and then our bearers in their turn drop, and so on into the unimaginable generations.

wanted to tell her about the blade of sunlight cleaving the velvet shadows of the public urinal that post-war spring afternoon in Regensburg, of the incongruous gaiety of the rain shower that fell the day of my father's funeral, of that last night with Boy when I saw the red ship under Blackfriars Bridge and conceived of the tragic significance of my life: in other words, the real things; the true things.

I shall be seventy-two this year. Impossible to believe. Inside, an eternal twenty-two. I suppose that is how it is for everybody old.

Pomieszczenie wygl?da?o tak, jak je zapami?ta?em. Albo wygl?da?o, jak gdyby by?o takie, jakim je zapami?ta?em, gdy? z regu?y wspomnienia dopasowuj? si? niezauwa?alnie do rzeczy i miejsc z odwiedzanej przesz?o?ci.

Hay momentos en que el pasado posee una fuerza tan poderosa que parece que podría aniquilarte

What was your name before that?" I asked. "Frank," she said.

Regrets and apologies are all very well, but there's things that happen in a person's life that are so scorched in the memory and burned into the heart that there's no forgetting them. They're like brands.

My mother was Eveline Hartford," said Maude, as if this would mean something to one or the other of us. "So as you know, she simply adored chairs.