Quotes About Memory

The past remains hidden in clouds of memory.

I love you Kaname-sama. You are the beginning of of my world, and everything in that world...So even if I couldn't remember my past...I wasn't scared

Show me...Show me what I've forgotten...Show me what was so important...that it tore my heart in two?!

Our memory is massively influenced by the strength of our feelings at the time.

Stars shine long after they've flamed out and the shine they shine with is love.

How is education supposed to make me feel smarter? Besides, every time I learn something new, it pushes some old stuff out of my brain. Remember when I took that home winemaking course, and I forgot how to drive?

You watched it! You can't unwatch it!

Regrets don't leave. They weren't mosquito bites. They itch for ever.

Sometimes regrets aren't based on fact at all

People you love never die. That is what Omai had said, all those years ago. And he was right. They don't die. Not completely. They live in your mind, the way they always lived inside you. You keep their light alive. If you remember them well enough, they can still guide you, like the shine of long-extinguished stars could guide ships in unfamiliar waters.

Regrets ignore chronology. They float around.

Nothing fixes a thing so firmly in the memory as the wish to forget it.

It is strange how close the past is, even when you imagine it to be so far away. Strange how it can just jump out of a sentence and hit you. Strange how every object or word can house a ghost.

The hardest dream of all is the dream of not being tormented by our unlived dreams. To cope with and accept unfulfillment as a natural human condition. To be complete in our incompleteness. To be free from the shackles of memory, and ambition, to be free from comparison to other people and other hypothetical selves, and to meet the moment without any other agenda, to exist as freely as time itself.

But this is how I remember these things, and all we can ever be is faithful to our memories of reality, rather than the reality itself, which is something closely related but never precisely the same thing.

The past is never gone. It just hides.

I pick it up and turn to a random page and read a sentence — 'Nothing fixes a thing so firmly in the memory as the wish to forget it'.

Maybe once you had known fear and love and beauty, you could never unknow them.

People you love never die. That is what Omai had said, all those years ago. And he was right. They don't die. Not completely. They live in your mind, the way they always lived inside you. You keep their light alive. If you remember them well enough, they can still guide you, like the shine of long-extinguished stars could guide shops in unfamiliar waters. If you stop mourning them, and start listening to them, they still have the power to change your life. They can, in short, be salvation.

Thomas Hobbes had viewed memory and imagination as pretty much the same thing, and since discovering that she had never entirely trusted her memories.

He smiled softly. "People you love never die." I had no idea of the sense of his words, but they stayed with me for centuries.

I should also say, in case it needs saying: I don't know for sure that the words I write were the words that were actually spoken. They probably weren't. But this is how I remember these things, and all we can ever be is faithful to our memories of reality, rather than the reality itself, which is something closely related but never precisely the same thing.

It is strange how close the past is, even when you imagine it to be so far away. Strange how it can just jump out of a sentence and hit you.

Regrets ignore chronology. They float around. The sequence of these lists changes all the time.