Quotes About Memory

They tried to make you forget - to tell you you were seeing things, misremembering things. But you have always known.

But Dr. Steve says that music and sensory stimuli are essential in memory recall." "I've never heard him say that," Bex said. "Well…he told me," I said. Townsend shrugged. "With all due respect to the good doctor, I highly suspect that he's a moron.

It is strange how we hold on to the pieces of the past while we wait for our futures.

It is Pau-kala. The branch is still bare. The old tree's leaves will never return - they are a memory and a song. But there is a sapling, there is a sapling right beside that old tree, and it's trembling with promise. There will be a spring again.

Yet this is not a novel. It is a faithful transcription of my memories, some of them hazy, others riddled with holes left by the passage of the years, others patched up by time and the filters of experience and distance, and still others, no doubt, completely invented by the stubborn narrator we all have within us, who wants things to be the way they sound best to us now, and not the way they were.

Ella ya es inmortal, pero todavía está viva.

Los nervios de punta, la razón ausente y el gesto detenido en un reloj averiado, parado en una fecha feliz y remota. Aquella insensibilidad repentina, de ritmo lento y ademanes mecánicos, era el signo de otro amor, el amor del cuerpo, de la piel herida en la memoria de los besos que no se repetirían

A veces pienso que el mayor delito del franquismo ha sido ése, secuestrar la memoria de un país enterio, desgajarlo del tiempo, impedir que tu, que eres mi nieta, la hija de mi hijo, puedas creer como cierta mi propia historia...

A world of meaning is lost when these views of racial ideology, the brutalization of war and the state-run process of extermination dominate our understanding of the Holocaust because the question "Why did the Nazis and other Germans burn the Hebrew Bible?" demands a historical imagination that captures Germans' culture, sensibilities, and historical memories.

Resentment secretes images that obscure your view of the present and distort your memory of the past. Resentment is a positive force of mendacity.

So many moments of irritating, wearisome disgust are returned to us years later by memory as splendidly happy episodes. Nostalgia is the lie that speeds our approach to death.

Porque la muerte, lo que suprime no es a los seres cercanos y que son nuestra vida misma. Lo que la muerte se lleva para siempre es su recuerdo, la imagen que se va borrando, diluyendo, hasta perderse, y es entonces cuando empezamos nosotros a morir también.

The conclusion that we were misled by our senses clearly involves several faculties: memory, induction…and sense perception itself

The night Ted died, Sam said he looked just like the skeleton.

But all at once I realized that my feet were cold.' I paused, for the alarming power of that moment was still uncomfortable, even in memory. 'I looked at the candles in their lanterns, and the top third had burned away. Somebody, somehow, seemed to have put me into a trance.

I thought it was real. But by morning, all I had left were fragmented pieces, shifting images with no beginning or end.

Like when you scrape your knee and you get a scar, but then the scar fades so much that no one can see it but you. But you know where it is. Cuz you remember what caused it. And no matter how hard you try, you can never forget how bad it hurt when it first happened.

Like poetry that is recited but never written down, more powerful because it is held solely in the mind.

In my old age, I have come to believe that love is not a noun but a verb. An action. Like water, it flows to its own current. If you were to corner it in a dam, true love is so bountiful it would flow over. Even in separation, even in death, it moves and changes. It lives within memory, in the haunting of a touch, the transience of a smell, or the nuance of a sigh. It seeks to leave a trace like a fossil in the sand, a leaf burned into baking asphalt.

Como un poema que se recita pero jamás se escribe, es más poderoso porque únicamente se retiene en el recuerdo.

Hasta el día de hoy la conservo encerrada en mi mente, apresada en un abrazo eterno.

Imagine if Uluru is absolute serenity and the ocean is homicidically mental, then my mother has been driving up and down the Pacific Highway for as long as I can remember.

It's not enough to be dead. He also has to haunt us.

In fond, oamenii nu citesc; daca citesc, nu pricep; daca pricep, uita.