Quotes About Memory

Someone is going to tell you to get use to this. That feeling of being scared and sad. They're going to say it'll be better when you learn to ignore it. Don't listen to them. Hold on to it, remember it... Don't let yourself forget it. It's too easy to lose. -Carl Grimes

I hope you're at peace. I hope you... I hope you're in heaven, and you fell in love with someone who treats you better than I ever did, and that they're fucking your brains out and then fucking your brains back in after that on a daily basis. I'll always miss you, Lucille. I'm sorry I named a fucking baseball bat after you.

Early on December 25, Houston time, Lovell missed a step. He meant to enter Program 23 and then select Star 01. Instead, he entered Program 01 into his computer. An alarm rang out. Suddenly, Apollo 8's guidance system reset itself, losing all memory of how the ship was oriented in space. As a result of Lovell's mistake, the guidance system now believed Apollo 8 to be back on the launchpad at Cape Kennedy.

A student incquired at his college bookstore about a book whose author's name he could not remember, but whose queer title was, to the best of his recollection, "A World Full of Lobsters.

They had not forgotten.

I realized that nothing ever comes back again quite the same. Things roll on, new sights take the place of the old, and the only way you can do it over is remember

It is not likely that posterity will fall in love with us, but not impossible that it may respect or sympathize so a man would rather leave behind him the portrait of his spirit than a portrait of his face.

We are old-timers,each of us holds a locked razor.

on Boylston Street, a commercial photographshows Hiroshima boiling.

Those blessèd structures, plot and rhyme— why are they no help to me now I want to make something imagined, not recalled?

I want to make something imagined, not recalled?

We are all old-timers, each of us holds a locked razor.

History has to live with what was here, clutching and close to fumbling all we had - it is so dull and gruesome how we die, unlike writing, life never finishes.

What a man can't remember doesn't exist for him.

In Tasfalen's house, what had been Roxane lay abed in Tasfalen's body, half-conscious, rent in memory and power, a mere fragment knowing only that it wanted to survive.

Then there was an exchange that's been seared into my memory. Joe Biden said he had argued for a different approach and was ready to move forward, but the military "should consider the president's decision as an order." "I am giving an order," Obama

One way of emphasizing the singularity of the recent past is [..] to observe that the total number of humans ever to have lived is estimated at around (a bit less than) 100 billion. One of Walt Whitman's poems has a memorable image—thinking of all past people lined up in orderly columns behind those living—'row upon row rise the phantoms behind us'. Actually, looking over our shoulder, we would see only around 15 rows.

December 7, 1988,

Simone looked down at the urn in her hands. True, it was heavier than she'd expected, but considering all that it held, lighter than it should have been, too. An entire life was contained inside it. A life now reduced to ash and bone.

But how could she have forgotten who he was—a man who could lose himself in a single book, not to mention a world-class, open-stack library, for hours on end?

Budete-li opakovat otázku po n?kolik dní nebo týdn?, hypocampus nebude mít jinou možnost, než ji vy?ídit. Bude to jeho vlastním zp?sobem, podle jeho ?asového harmonogramu, ale váš mozek za?ne dodávat pot?ebné odpov?di.

History is no longer, as it was for the Greeks, an anamnesis , a remembrance. Ir is rather a thrust into the future.

You may think you know, but you don't know you know until you can write it down. Research is not daydreaming. Explore your past, relive it, then write it down. In your head it's only memory, but written down it becomes working knowledge. Now with the bile of fear in your belly, write an honest, one-of-a-kind scene.

You might forget the day you saw a dead body in the street, but the death of Hamlet haunts you forever.