Quotes About Memory

Where did that dog Waga ie no that used to be here go? inu wa izuko ni I thought about him yukinuramu once again tonight koyoi mo omoi before I went to bed. idete nemureru How is a person's poetry

This is like deja vu all over again.

Boy, Whitey, I hope I never see my name up there. To Whitey Ford during scoreboard tribute on opening day to recently deceased Yankees.

Because he had been- and in many ways still was- such a brilliant man, he no doubt understood the nature of his memory problem. It wasn't pride that prevented him from asking for help but a deep aversion to causing more trouble than necessary for those of us who lived in the normal world.

Quant à l'endroit où se trouvait mon père, le jour de ses funérailles, ma mère me l'avait indiqué. C'est un peu loin, mais un jour ou l'autre nous irons le rejoindre, il n'y a pas à craindre de s'égarer. Ton papa est gentil, il est seulement parti devant pour voir comment c'était, m'avait-elle dit.

It was clear that he didn't remember me from one day to the next. The note clipped to his sleeve simply informed him that it was not our first meeting, but it could not bring back the memory of the time we had spent together.

Whisper your dream to a cloud. Ask the cloud to remember it.

Experience itself depends on memory, which permits us to recall facts and to draw our conclusions from them, on which facts reasoning is based.

This piercing cold I feel:my dead wife's comb, in our bedroomunder my heel…

The antonym of "forgetting" is not "remembering", but justice .

M]y terror of forgetting is greater than my terror of having too much to remember. Let the accumulated facts about the past continue to multiply. ... So that those who need can find that this person did live, those events really took place, this interpretation is not the only one.

in Israel no trauma was ever really forgotten, only displaced by new trauma so that the country's emotional life resembled one of its archaeological sites, an accumulation of disrupted layers.

In Udi's vocabulary, Jewish was equated with the ills of exile: rootless parasitic, superstitious. Yet here, in the Western Wall's solitary dignity, was beauty. In this world of stone, he felt softness; in this quarry of memory, peace.

I'm trying to think of the number of championship games that we were in and that I was in, and I honestly lose track. It was like, have I been in four or five? Was it before I got there in '87, had they been in three or four? I don't mean to be flippant at all. I'm literally not sure how many championship games --? I know how many we won, that's easy, but how many we lost, they are bitter.

We were fishers of memory waiting on the banks of time and waiting for the past to swallow the date.

With relief I arrived at memory's peak, and a broader landscape came into view.

because my memory had caught up with the world that had gone away.

La casetta si sta allontanando e i binari sono volati via. Continuo a perdermi inseguendo le mie tracce, e mi stanco. Mi siedo su una pietra, serafico come un albero. E i miei ricordi sembrano dei maratoneti mentre corrono al mondo che ho lasciato.

Recordar el pasado o añorar la tierra natal son, en realidad, maneras de recurrir a algo tranquilizador cuando estamos desorientados en la vida real.

There are people who had wanted to live longer but could not. My aunt had always been considerate to others. Both my father and I want to convey what she cherished.

Just now I had a dream. I'll see you again. I know it. Beneath the falls.

For me, beauty is always retreating from one's grasp: the only thing I consider important is what existed once, or ought to have existed.

Yet another memory: It is the odor of sweat, an odor that drove me onward, awakened my longings, overpowered me… Needless to say, the odor could not, at that time, have had any direct relationship with sexual sensations, but it did gradually and tenaciously arouse within me a sensuous craving for such things as the destiny of soldiers, the tragic nature of their calling, the distant countries they would see, the ways they would die…

Habit is a horrible thing. I repeated the kiss for which I had so repented.