Quotes About Memory

Familiarize yourself with the parts of your brain and their function.

I don't remember anything about Ekta and Tusshar's growing years. I don't remember playing with them, being with them, attending their school functions.

When I was a kid, I would fantasize about my own funeral.

I had this struggle of, what do I do to make sure my brother is still part of everything that I do? As I was driving up to his funeral, it hit me. I'm going to wear his number.

You may ask why I write. And yet my reasons are quite many. For it is not unusual in human beings who have witnessed the sack of a city or the falling to pieces of a people to desire to set down what they have witnesses for the benefit of unknown heirs or of generations infinitely remote; or, if you please, just to get the sight out of their heads.

He thought about her deliberately. Hard. Nothing happened. He thought of her fair, undistinguished, fresh face that made your heart miss a beat when you thought about it. His heart missed a beat. Obedient heart! Like the first primrose. Not any primrose. The first primrose.

These trenches are like Pompeii, sir.

We talked of it, of course, but I guess Florence got all she wanted out of one look at a place. She had the seeing eye. I haven't, unfortunately, so that the world is full of places to which I want to return.

I DON'T KNOW how it is best to put this thing down – whether it would be better to try and tell the story from the beginning, as if it were a story; or whether to tell it from this distance of time, as it reached me from the lips of Leonora or from those of Edward himself.

At which point I grew old and it was like ripping open the beehive with my hands again. At which point I conceived a realm more real than life. At which point there was at least some possibility. Some possibility, in which I didn't believe, of being with her once more.

Remember when I was lying on your lap and you cleaned my ears with a Q-tip? What a strange, complex intimacy, your at once maternal and sexual tenderness.

La muerte no nos roba los seres amados. Al contrario, nos los guarda y nos los inmortaliza en el recuerdo. La vida sí que nos los roba muchas veces y definitivamente.

Where are the snows of yesteryear?

When I lie by myself and remember I begin to have pains everywhere and I think of things that make me begin to scream because I hate them so. If there was a doctor anywhere who could make you forget you were ill instead of remembering it I would have him brought here.

It had never occurred to his honest, simple little mind that there were people who could forget kindnesses.

She had not expected him to remember her at all and her hard little heart grew quite warm.

No one will remember you.

When I lie by myself and remember I begin to have pains everywhere and I think of things that make me begin to scream because I hate them so.

Underneath were the printed letters and they said: "I will cum bak.

Everything's a story. You are a story -I am a story. - Sara Crewe

Memory is capricious. I can look back and see decadence, old bigots, the constant racial slurs, the bores, the wild cards, the bighearted, the family album of alcoholics, the saints, the old aunt propped in a chair saying only da-da, the slow-motion suicides, but at four, six, ten, they loomed, powerful, not as types but as themselves. Among them, logic takes wing. (pg. 31)

Images are the pegs holding down memory's billowing tent.

Now I find the stack of chapters I called Under Magnolia. Why, after many years, even open these flowered folders? Dare alla luce, the Tuscans say at the birth of a baby, to give to the light.

Egy kínai költÅ' sok száz évvel ezelÅ'tt azt mondta, hogy ha valamit leírunk, újra át is éljük.