Quotes About Memory

Supposedly you drink to forget. The trouble is you don't forget, you remember—all the old insults and hatreds, real and imagined.

Sioux and elephants never forget.

It doesn't matter how many universes come and go, I will always remember who we were together.

I do hope the things I've forgotten don't matter.

This world, it breathes you in, sniffs, it knows you, and then it breathes you out again, shares you. You're not contained here in this single place alone. The wind, time, it circles, repeats, teaches, reveals, some swaths cutting deeper than others. The universe knows. The universe has a long memory.

and time becomes a forgotten detail.

Do certain events in our lives leave a permanent mark, freezing a piece of us in time, and that becomes a touchstone that we measure the rest of our lives against?

For with but one generation, History and truth are lost forever.

I used to be someone. Someone named Jenna Fox. That's what they tell me. But I am more than a name. More than they tell me. More than the facts and statistics they fill me with. More than the video clips they make me watch. More . But I'm not sure what.

Words have longer lives than people.

It's not every day one has a first kiss,' I said. 'May I remind you that it wasn't your first kiss?' 'It felt like it was. It was the first one that mattered.

Memories are short. It is the forgetting that I fear.

I didn't think about his world or mine or the future we couldn't have. I only thought about the warm light behind my eyelids, his soft murmurs in my ear, and the fullness of what we had in that moment. And we touched in all the ways of yesterday and more.

My memory is coming back. It is curious how it comes. Each day, a rush of pieces, loosely connected, unimportant bits, snake through me. They click, click, click into my brain, like links being snapped together. And then they are done. A small chain of memories that fill in one tiny part of my life. They come out of nowhere, and most are not important.

The thought weaves into her unexpectedly, as so many thoughts do, time again. How do you make the remembering stop?

Our fingers unlace so slowly that I am certain some part of me has been left behind on her fingertips.

These memories descend out of nowhere, giving me pieces of who I was, but their significance is lost. I sigh and resume my walk, not knowing if this memory is important, or just more of the jumbled trivia of Jenna's life, like sock shopping. Maybe that is all any life is composed of, trivia that eventually adds up to a person, and maybe I just don't have enough of it yet to be a whole one.

The world would always know, even if men forgot.

Write it down, he had told me. Write down every word once you get there, Before the truth is forgotten. And now we do, at least the parts we remember. —Greyson Ballenger, 14

What's your name?" I asked as he mounted his horse. "You are nothing!" he answered, as if he'd heard a different question from my lips. He settled into his saddle, then reluctantly looked my way again. "Jafir de Aldrid," he answered. "And I am --" "I know who you are. "You're Morrighan." He galloped off. It was another four years before I saw him again, and the whole of that time, I wondered how he knew my name.

Memories are short. It is the forgetting I fear.

Write it down," he had told me. "Write down every word once you get there, Before the truth is forgotten" And now we do, at least the parts we remember

Write it down, he had told me. Write down every word one you get there, Before the truth is forgotten And now we do, at least the parts we remember.

Kazimyrah, I would sometimes whisper to myself as I slunk away with a meal hidden beneath my coat, because there were days even I forgot who I had once been.