Quotes About Memory

I should have known: no escape from past acquaintance. What you were is forever who you are.

After August 1958, the world continued to spin; but the world of my childhood had, indeed, come to an end. Padma—did you have, when you were little, a world of your own? A tin orb on which were imprinted the continents and oceans and polar ice? Two cheap metal hemispheres, clamped together by a plastic stand? No, of course not; but I did.

Memory's truth, because memory has its own special kind. It selects, eliminates, alters, exaggerates, minimizes, glorifies, and vilifies also; but in the end it creates its own reality, its heterogeneous but usually coherent version of events; and no sane human being ever trusts someone else's version more than his own." Yes:

So it was that their mimic love, their love born of the memory of others, their post-love that came after, became true, authentic, a thing in and of itself, in which she almost stopped thinking about the dead

Rani, too, was perpetuating memories. Harappa the martyr, the demigod, lived on in his daughter's thoughts; but no two sets of memories ever match, even when their subject is the same (...)

fHistory is the consequence not only of people's actions, but also of their forgetfulness.

History is a consequence not only of people's actions, but also of their forgetfulness.

Everybody forgets some small things, all the time!" But if small things go, will large things be close behind?

He listened unhappily until at length the blind man asked the thin air a question: 'I hope, perhaps, you may also remember me? A little? On occasion?' Then came a silence; a dry laugh; the sound of a man sitting down, heavily, all of a sudden.

The light of the fire dying in the water like a dream being forgotten.

One day, perhaps, the world may taste the pickles of history. They may be too strong for some palates, their smell may be overpowering, tears may rise to eyes; I hope nevertheless that it will be possible to say of them that they posses the authentic taste of truth...that they are, despite everything, acts of love.

History is the consequence not only of people's actions, but also of their forgetfulness.

Eventually, the photographer had tried to catch her unawares, but she seized his camera and broke it over his skull. Fortunately, he lived; but there are no photographs of my grandmother anywhere on the earth. She was not one to be trapped in anyone's little black box. It was enough for her that she must live in unveiled, barefaced shamelessness—there was no question of allowing the fact to be recorded.

he perceived that this memory-jumbled rag-bag of material was in fact the very heart of her, her self-portrait, the way she looked in the mirror when nobody else was in the room...

We all wore a 21 patch that one season as a silent tribute to our deceased teammate Roberto.

The struggle of man against power is the struggle of memory against forgetting.

The memory came faint and cold of the story I might have told, a story in the likeness of my life, I mean without the courage to end or the strength to go on.

I still have a video of my father, which I watch before every game I play for Brazil. It gives me strength, makes me determined.

Genius only leaves behind it the monuments of its strength.

Memory is a drug. Memory can hold you against your strength and against your will.

The strength of your memory dictates the size of your reality

Even as one heat another heat expels, or as one nail by strength drives out another, so the remembrance of my former love is by a newer object quite forgotten.

The people that does not care for its children or grandparents is a people that has not future. Because it doesn't have the strength or the memory to go forward.

We were each other's only link to the past . . . that was the strength of our bond, and also our weakness.