Quotes About Memory

The sweetness of the past? Our memory of it, since to remember it is to make it present, and it isn't present nor ever can be – absurdity, my love, absurdity.

La dulzura del pasado? El recordarlo, puesto que recordarlo es hacerlo presente y no lo es ni ya lo puede ser —el absurdo, mi amor, el absurdo.

I want you only for my dreams,' they tell the beloved woman in verses they never send – they who dare not tell her anything. This 'I want you only for my dreams' is a verse from an old poem of mine. I record the memory with a smile, and don't even comment on the smile.

Oggi la mia anima è triste fino al corpo. Tutto me stesso mi duole: la memoria, gli occhi, le braccia.

I let my mind wander, and I'm sure that what I'm writing I've already written. I remember. And I ask the one in me who presumes to exist if in the Platonism of sensations there might not be another, less vertical anamnesis – another pre-existing life that we vaguely remember but that belongs only to this life… My God, my God, who am I watching? How many am I? Who is I? What is this gap between me and myself?

What I was and will never be again! What I had and will never have again!

Vivemos só de recordar. Na nossa alma entristecida Há um som de reza a invocar A morta vida;

Dicen los ocultistas, o algunos de ellos, que hay momentos supremos del alma en que ésta recuerda, con la emoción o con parte de la memoria, un momento, o un aspecto, o una sombra de una encarnación anterior. Y entonces, como regresa a un tiempo que está más cerca que su presente del origen y del comienzo de las cosas, siente, en cierto modo, una infancia y una liberación.

La muerte es un recodo del camino, morir es sólo no ser ya visto.

Twice in my adolescence – which I feel so remotely it seems like someone else's story that I read or was told – I enjoyed the humiliating grief of being in love. From my present vantage point, looking back to that past which I can no longer designate as 'long ago' or 'recent', I think it was good that this experience of disillusion happened to me so early.

The total snuffing out of life and the soul, the complete banishment of all beings and people, the night without memory or illusion, the absence of past and future .....

To realize I don't remember myself means that I've woken up.

To live is to be other. Even feeling is impossible if one feels today what one felt yesterday, for that is not to feel, it is only to remember today what one felt yesterday, to be the living corpse of yesterday's lost life.

I feel nostalgia for the possibility of one day feeling nostalgia, regardless of how absurd that nostalgia may seem.

Meu coração a bater Parece estar-me a lembrar Que, se um dia te esquecer, Será por ele parar.

The child is still there but has fallen silent. I see the way I saw, but from behind my eyes I see myself seeing, and that is enough to darken the sun, to make the green of the trees old, and to wilt the flowers before they open.

Prince of better hours, once I was your princess, and we loved each other with a different kind of love, whose memory wounds me.

Ndjeshmënia jeme ndaj të resë asht e tmerrshme: ndjehem i qetë vetëm në vendet ku kam qenë ma parë.

The fact is, when men carry the same ideals in their hearts, nothing can isolate them - neither prison walls nor the sod of cemeteries. For single memory, a single spirit, a single idea, a single conscience, a single dignity will sustain them all.

If a man stands before a mirror and sees in it his reflection, what he sees is not a true reproduction of himself but a picture of himself when he was a younger man

still loved but deprived of grace

If a man stands before a mirror and sees in it his reflections what he sees is not a true reproduction of himself but a picture of himself when he was a younger man.

When I was six I had a chicken that walked backward and was in the Pathe News. I was in it too with the chicken. I was just there to assist the chicken but it was the high point in my life. Everything since has been anticlimax.

He had the feeling that everything he saw was a broken-off piece of some giant blank thing that he had forgotten had happened to him.