Quotes About Memory

Remembering bred its own peculiar sorrow. It seemed so unfair: that time should render both sadness and happiness into a source of pain.

What the Photograph reproduces to infinity has occurred only once: the Photograph mechanically repeats what could never be repeated existentially.

Before leaving the property, Vittoria had left this sketch. For him.

The past shouts at you, the ugly words or actions echo down across the years.

A fair portion of my anger had returned, but alongside it ran the memory of those few seconds on the yoga mat in the death pose. I felt as if I had been shown a kind of essential secret, something so subtle and quiet and small(and yet so important)that I could gone my entire adult life and never even imagined such a thing existed.

Sorg blekes ut og vender seg til stjernene men minnet om hester, kvinne føtter, barn strømmer fra deres ansikter over i gressets rike.

what an individual seeks to become determines what he remembers of his has been. In this sense the future determines the past.

Cosa caratterizza la grazia?» "Io pensai alla piccola polacca, al suo collo, alle sue braccia, al volo della sua chioma, e risposi senza esitare: «Il movimento». "Presi diciannove. Devo il mio diploma all'amore.

Wszystko w tym opowiadaniu jest prawdÄ… - chyba tylko prócz dialogów: nie mam takiej nadludzkiej pamiÄ™ci. DochodzÄ™ zresztÄ… powoli do przekonania, ?e w ogóle nic nadludzkiego we mnie nie ma. Bardzo mnie to dziwi, ale trudno.

He always remembered it vividly when he was in physical pain and when the limit of his strength seemed to have been reached, and it was a memory that helped him every time to hold out and to go on.

Tu as quelqu'un, quelque part ? A qui il faut écrire où on t'a enterré ? – C'est pas la peine de gaspiller un timbre. »

Islands of memory begin to rise above the river of his life. At first they are little uncharted islands, rocks just peeping above the surface of the waters. Round about them and behind in the twilight of the dawn stretches the great untroubled sheet of water; then new islands, touched to gold by the sun.

So the nymphs they spoke, we kissed and laid. By noontime's hour our love was made. Like braided chains of crocus stems, we lay entwined, I laid with them. Our breath, one glassy, tideless sea, our bodies draping wearily, we slept, I slept so lucidly, with hopes to stay this memory.

I fear it is my lot, to bide my days in hunchbacked thought, to find what I forgot.

I care not that this moment's lot was thin and sparsely dealt; all pleasures sweet can be forgot the instant they are felt.

Ô, Muse of the Heart's Passion, let me relive my Love's memory, to remember her body, so brave and so free, and the sound of my Dreameress singing to me, and the scent of my Dreameress sleeping by me, Ô, sing, sweet Muse, my soliloquy!

Even the memory of cradling her in my arms is pure euphoria. And all that I ask out of life is that it be constant and unending euphoria.

The artist's greatest creation began the night he washed his memory of his failures rubbed opium on his lips drank the wine that women offered him and lay down and wept.

Epic literature is not history but is again a way of looking at the past.

National-ism seeks legitimacy from the past and history therefore becomes a sensitive subject

A later age looks back with nostalgia at an earlier one and depicts it in terms of ideals and activities now receding.

It was, Eliza Hamilton Holly noted pointedly, the imperative duty that Eliza had bequeathed to all her children: Justice shall be done to the memory of my Hamilton.

Pain is the price we pay for memory. It's some kind of sin to forget what hurts, as much as it is to forget what makes us smile. Suffering has its meaning, and memory has its graces.

Do you know what it is you're most afraid of?" "Yes." "What?" "I'm afraid of being forgotten," Bob said, and having admitted that, wondered if it was true. He said, "I'm afraid I'll end up living a life like everyone else's and me being Bob Ford won't matter one way or the other.