Quotes About Memory

I can't remember to be tempted.

or is it long ago, out of the memory I can't have, where does this imagery come from

I see my past drifting away . . . It isn't relevant to remember who I was, what my cares were.

I will be myself again. When were we ourselves? eons and lives ago

it goes away and you almost forget it but emotions stay

I will always have done that; when I die I will have done that; when I'm dead I will remember that I have done that.

And my love. Which is visible here in death . . . it's part of what you're left with when you die.

you need to know that our interpreta- tion of the past can't be right.

it's a pitiable likeness of clear running struggling to keep up with what's already gone

a kiss gives off a swoosh of amnesia

which is a memory which happens again and again

and the whole apparition only ever known backwards already too late now almost gone

remembering better times whereas naming no names some of us would rather not remember something some of us have got enough bloody nightmares already

they lift their faces to the past

I always wake like this being watched already forgetting who I am

My name is Salmon, like the fish; first name, Susie. I was fourteen when I was murdered.

When the dead are done with the living, the living can go on to other things," Franny said. "What about the dead?" I asked. "Where do we go?

Life is a perpetual yesterday for us.

And my sister, my Lindsey, left me in her memories, where I was meant to be.

Sometimes it was hard for me to connect the boy I knew—the skinny smart kid who collected lead soldiers and pursued Boy Scout merit badges—with the phenomenally successful man he'd become. But sooner or later, when we were together, some remark would inevitably trigger childhood memories and then we'd be off, zipping down a path that existed now only for the two of us.

All his beauty, wit and grace Lie forever in one place, He who sang and sprang and moved Now, in death, is only loved.

Ninacuri suspiró y en ese suspiro se le fue parte de su vida.

Les hommes peuvent bien s'entretuer jusqu'au dernier, ils ne tueront jamais la vie. La vie a raison des hommes, elle passe outre. [...] À mon insu je pense aux mères yougoslaves. Je comprends leur obstination à procréer, au milieu des bombes. Je comprends leur volonté de tuer la mort, leur idéalisme farouche. Malgré la guerre, ou grâce à elle. Car la maternité n'est-elle pas aussi devoir de restitution et de transmission, acte de mémoire et de foi?

The house looked a tiny bit unfamiliar, as houses always do when their owners have ben away.