Quotes About Memory

That we wouldn't be able to do. Not even if we wanted it more than anything in the world. Because once we've touched a world, it stays touched.

She hugged him, then kissed him. Then she was gone. He never saw her again.

Thus, too, they came to know the incorrigible sorrow of all prisoners and exiles, which is to live in company with a memory that serves no purpose.

Mother died today, or maybe it was yesterday.

Oui, les mots, ma patrie, les mots, ça console et ça venge. Mais ils ne me rendront pas ma mère.

Education is what remains after one has forgotten everything one learned in school.

To be a character who feels a deep emotion, one must go into the memory's vault and mix in a sad memory from one's own life.

Life has obliged him to remember so much useful knowledge that he has lost not only his history, but his whole original cargo of useless knowledge history, languages, literatures, the higher mathematics, or what you will - are all gone.

Concerning culture as a process, one would say that it means learning a great many things and then forgetting them and the forgetting is as necessary as the learning.

Learning has always been made much of, but forgetting has always been deprecated therefore pedantry has pretty well established itself throughout the modern world at the expense of culture.

Diligent as one must be in learning, one must be as diligent in forgetting otherwise the process is one of pedantry, not culture.

Now, I want to remember all this. My life has known days of innocence when I had only to close my eyes in order not to see.

Soon or late, every dog's master's memory becomes a graveyard; peopled by wistful little furry ghosts that creep back unbidden, at times, to a semblance of their olden lives.

Happiness? That's nothing more than a good health and a poor memory.

Happiness? That's nothing more than health and a poor memory.

Happiness is nothing more than good health and a bad memory.

The houses are far away, the ground is under our feet like an island; invisible, victorious, birds are singing, it's the memory and oblivion of everything, it's St. John's Eve. Our kiss is as harmonious as nature.

His bread incident was just like my own story of getting run over. I didn't get hurt, exactly, though I did get to see the underside of something I thought I knew but I didn't. My father and I, in our turn, got to see something new in the middle of what was absolutely familiar, which is the hardest place to see it. Neither of us ever forgot.

Nature never remembers, that's why she's beautiful.

Lo literario de viajar es que uno después recuerda algo parecido a un cuento o una novela donde el protagonosta es uno mismo.

Un buen recuerdo se borra y cuesta volver a sentir lo que sentiste en ese momento. Cuando uno se ha sentido muy como las huevas, el dolor vuelve fácil. Es eso, no más.

El pasado, creo, es mucho más difícil de ocultar que el presente.

I like to imagine that, on the day after my last, my library and I will crumble together, so that even when I am no more I'll still be with my books.

My books hold between their covers every story I've ever known and still remember, or have now forgotten, or may one day read; they fill the space around me with ancient and new voices.