Quotes About Memory

Morir no es malo para el que muere, pensé; es tremendo para el que queda navegando por la estela que el otro trazó, desbrozando, soportando una vida larga, fofa, despojada del menor aliciente...

Las cosas aprendidas por gusto se pegan más a la memoria que las aprendidas por obligación.

Le dolía que los hechos pasasen con esta facilidad a ser recuerdos; notar la sensación de que nada, nada de lo pasado, podría reproducirse. Era aquella una sensación angustiosa de dependencia, le ponía nervioso la imposibilidad de dar marcha atrás en el reloj del tiempo.

Of course when one opens a coffin, one destroys it. Nevertheless a delicate odour of cedarwood will come forth.

Não posso negar o que vi, o que cheirei, o que senti, o que amei.

E de novo acredito que nada do que é importante se perde verdadeiramente. Apenas nos iludimos, julgando ser donos das coisas, dos instantes e dos outros. Comigo caminham todos os mortos que amei, todos os amigos que se afastaram, todos os dias felizes que se apagaram. Não perdi nada, apenas a ilusão de que tudo podia ser meu para sempre.

Toda a dor prolongada insulta o seu esquecimento.

Over a lifetime of seventy years, and counting sixteen hours of waking time each day, this amounts to about 185 billion bits of information. It is out of this total that everything in our life must come—every thought, memory, feeling, or action. It seems like a huge amount, but in reality it does not go that far.

Yet we have all experienced times when, instead of being buffeted by anonymous forces, we do feel in control of our actions, masters of our own fate. On the rare occasions that it happens, we feel a sense of exhilaration, a deep sense of enjoyment that is long cherished and that becomes a landmark in memory for what life should be like.

Observing, recording, and preserving the memory of both the large and small events of life is one of the oldest and most satisfying ways to bring order to consciousness.

Having a record of the past can make a great contribution to the quality of life. It frees us from the tyranny of the present, and makes it possible for consciousness to revisit former times.

the past can never be literally true in memory: it must be continuously edited, and the question is only whether we take creative control of the editing or not.

Un acto humano es como una piedra arrojada al mar. Cae con gran estrépito y agita el agua, pero al cabo de un instante la superficie está de nuevo lisa y no se ve ya rastro de la piedra. Lo mismo ocurre con la memoria

Ed allora mi rivedevo per le polverose strade di Babilonia con Minea al mio fianco

Turn, O you years_roll again, you vanished years_sail, Ammon, from west to east across the heavens and bring again my youth! Not one word of it will I alter, not my least action will I amend. O brittle pen, smooth papyrus, give me back my folly and my youth!

BrzmiaÅ'o to dokÅ'adnie jak jego ciotka, która zmarÅ'a jesieniÄ… zeszÅ'ego roku, gÅ'os szeptaÅ': - Paska... paska... A potem ucichÅ' tajemniczo.

We put expensive new carpet in my home in 2003 and I still call it new carpet today. Chew on that one for a minute.

Those heart-hammering nightmares that start to lose coherence even as you're waking up from them, but that still manage to leave their moldering fingerprints all across your day.

I can remember when I was a baby and my mother was there watching the show. I went and bought 100 episodes and watched them. I respect it so much that the sitcom itself and Ed Norton I'm not playing Ed Norton but my version of it, cause I'm a black man.

Martha kisses me on the cheek too, only she does not wipe away her lipstick afterwards. When she is not looking, I touch where she put her lips. It feels sticky but in a nice way. Like she has left part of her kiss behind for me to find later tonight, when I am in bed and dropping off to sleep.

restaurant in Broadway which

Details are important when a day is special to you. But the difficult thing is that quite often you do not know a day is special until long after it is over.

age still remembered it with wonderment, I never asked him about it, as it seemed to me his silence on the subject only added to its grandeur and I did not want to take from it in any way with questions so that

This is a grave. There is no honor here in broken tools and old bones, only in the deeds of our children.