Quotes About Memory

Past and future exist only in our memory. The present moment, though, is outside of time, its Eternity. In India, they use the word karma, for lack of any better term. It isnt what you did in the past that will affect the present. Its what you do in the present that will redeem the past and thereby change the future.

he who forgets will be destined to remember...

Lo colectivo se olvida rápido, solo lo personal e íntimo permanece.

As Adrienne Rich so acutely observed, "It is hard to write about my own mother. Whatever I do write, it is my story I am telling, my version of the past. If she were to tell her own story, other landscapes would be revealed. But in my landscape or hers, there would be old, smoldering patches of deep-burning anger.

You don't have to be old in America to say of a world you lived in: That world is gone.

You don't have to be old in America to say of a world you lived in: That world is gone.

Charlotte believed in ghosts, for after all, she had been a kind of ghost herself.

History is a slippery business; the past is not a constant but a landscape that mutates according to argument and opinion.

But her thoughts are often of the past. That evanescent, pervasive, slippery internal landscape known to no one else, that vast accretion of data on which you depend - without it you would not be yourself. Impossible to share and no one else could view it anyway. The past is out ultimate privacy; we pile it up, year by year, decade by decade, it stows itself away, with its perverse random recall system.

The past is our ultimate privacy; we pile it up, year by year, decade by decade, it stows itself away, with its perverse random recall system.

And now I want to get yesterday down while I still have the awful taste of it

The day is refracted, and the next and the one after that, all of them broken up into a hundred juggled segments, each brilliant and self-contained so that the hours are no longer linear but assorted like bright sweets in a jar.

She rose and she remembered, remembered and rose, until she had gone too far for fear to snatch her back.

And she turned and walked out again, and he stood staring after her, noticing, absurdly, that she was wearing the same high silver-heeled boots that she had had on the day of the crash.

I remember a lot of dreams. Sometimes they are hard to distinguish from what has really happened. That is not so terrible. It is the same with books.

If I just concentrate I can walk into memory's store and find the right shelf with the right film and disappear into it....

you suddenly realise that every chance of being the person you really wanted to be, is gone for ever, and the one you were, is the one those around you will remember.

You don't remember what you never fail to do, that is common knowledge,

You're probably right,' I said, but to be honest, I had forgotten to be a Communist that night.

I was scared. Not of being dead, that I could not comprehend, to be nothing was impossible to grasp and therefore nothing really to be scared of, but the dying itself I could comprehend, the very instant when you know that now comes what you have always feared, and you suddenly realise that every chance of being the person you really wanted to be, is gone for ever, and the one you were, is the one those around you will remember.

In case you forgot, my name is Zach Wells. It would not be so strange or awfully bad if you had forgotten.

Why will I bury you? So that one day I might disturb your grave.

Music, when soft voices die,Vibrates in the memory;Odors, when sweet violets sicken,Live within the sense they quicken.Rose leaves, when the rose is dead,Are heaped for the beloved's bed;And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone,Love itself shall slumber on.

Music, when soft voices die, Vibrates in the memory— Odours, when sweet violets sicken, Live within the sense they quicken. Rose-leaves, when the rose is dead, Are heap'd for the beloved's bed; And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone, Love itself shall slumber on.