Quotes About Memory

A fotografia quieta vai suplantando a cara real, com os seus gestos e o seu movimento, as feições congelam e passam a existir apenas as do instantâneo, que de tanto olhado substitui a pessoa e a apaga ou a desterra ou expulsa, por isso custa tanto recordar verdadeiramente os mortos que se afastam de nós.

Memory (...) should be treated like a pest; while old solutions retained in memory provide stability and some degree of predictability in an uncertain world, that stability - often called tradition or the way things have always been - can also stifle flexibility. The world remains uncertain no matter what we do to protect ourselves from it; we must always be prepared to leap outside of retained solutions to new enactments.

We Are Influenced by Past Experiences.

People more often need to be reminded than informed.

Je regrettais la mort de cette fille comme on regrette la destruction totale d'une belle Å"uvre.

Though lovers be lost, love shall not; And death shall have no dominion.

Though lovers be lost love shall not.

The recognition of God's presence in each traumatic memory makes it no longer traumatic, but healing and hopeful.

Claudia began her studies never doubting that she could become an authority that morning. She had neither pencil nor paper to make notes. And she knew she wouldn't have a lot of time to read. So she decided that she would simply remember everything, absolutely everything she read. Her net profit, therefore, would be as great as that of someone who read a great deal but remembered very little.

Buffalo Bill's defunct who used to ride a watersmooth-silver stallion and break onetwothreefourfive pigeonsjustlikethat Jesus he was a handsome man and what i want to know is how do you like your blueeyed boy Mister Death

i remember we all cried like the Missouri when my Uncle Sol's coffin lurched because somebody pressed a button (and down went my uncle Sol and started a worm farm)

up into the the silence the green silence with a white earth in it you will (kiss me)go out into the morning the young morning with a warm world in it (kiss me)you will go on into the sunlight the fine sunlight with a firm day in it you will go(kiss me down into your memory and a memory and memory i) kiss me,(will go)

along the brittle treacherous bright streets of memory comes my heart,singing like an idiot,whispering like a drunken man

annie died the other day never was there such a lay-- whom,among her dollies,dad first(don't tell your mother)had

in spite of everything which breathes and moves, since Doom (with white longest hands neatening each crease) will smooth entirely our minds --before leaving my room I turn, and(stooping through the morning)kiss this pillow, dear where our heads lived and were.

And so do people pass out of one's life and all you can remember of them is their humanity, a poor fitful thing of no dominion, like your own.

The genome of every human cell has memory. You know what that means? As evolved beings we have in our genes memories of the far past, of long-ago generations, memories of experiences not our own.

But the boy's eyes saw only the tracks made by the skaters, traces quickly erased of moments past, journeys taken.

9.01 Nausea catalogs the indigestible contents of the stomach that are to be brought up. 9.02 Memory that is nauseating catalogs the contents of the mind that can never be brought up.

Really how life gets on is a secret, you only know your memory, and it makes its own time. The real time leads you along and you never know when it happens, the best that can be is come and gone.

Nothing is left in my memory of a summer that promised nothing. except the ominous end of it. But I remember clearly that autumn when darkness came to lend its cover to a killing season seeing at last these ill-at-ease petals estranged from moonlight and still related to it: outcasts of metal, of steel

the secret histories of things deserve to linger, to belong again to the coil of your hair I found once as a child, dried out by shadows, in a shut-tight wooden box

To be identified with your mind is to be trapped in time: the compulsion to live almost exclusively through memory and anticipation. This creates an endless preoccupation with past and future and an unwillingness to honor and acknowledge the present moment and allow it to be. The compulsion arises because the past gives you an identity and the future holds the promise of salvation, of fulfillment in whatever form. Both are illusions.

To be identified with your mind is to be trapped in time: the compulsion to live almost exclusively through memory and anticipation. This creates an endless preoccupation with past and future and an unwillingness to honour and acknowledge the present moment and allow it to be. The compulsion arises because the past gives you an identity and the future holds the promise of salvation, of fulfilment in whatever form. Both are illusions