Quotes About Memory

Sorrow has its life just like people. Sorrow is born and lives and dies. And when it's dead and gone, someone's left behind to remember it. Exactly like people.

The hardest obstacle I've ever had to overcome in my life is losing my mom four years ago. I wouldn't even say that I've overcome it, really. I don't imagine that I ever will.

Immortality is like trying to carve your initials in a block of ice in the middle of July.

It is curious how sometimes the memory of death lives on for so much longer than the memory of the life that is purloined.

What I leave behind has a life of its own.

For me, the card catalog has been a companion all my working life. To leave it is like leaving the house one was brought up in.

Life's the longest picture you're ever gonna take.

When someone who's always been in your life is gone, it's a stunning adjustment of your own identity.

I've never written an autobiographical novel in my life. I've never touched upon my life. I've never written a single scene that I can say took place.

Throughout his life the memory of that happy day stayed locked secretly in (his) heart.

It is his absence that is part of me and has been for years. This is who I am, perhaps who we all are, keepers of the absent and the dead. It is the blessing and burden of being alive.

The power of Hollywood, as we know, is that it can create these images in people's minds, and they live with those images for their whole life.

You can only desire something that you've already had in your life.

You think that what I've told you is an anecdote. But really it isn't. It's my whole life. It's the only story I have.

Everytime i have turned the page he re-enters my life as awkward as postscript

There was no quick grief for Andrew because he had been so slowly lost. First from my heart, then from my mind, and only finally from my life.

Music scores your life. You interact with it. It becomes the soundtrack to that one summer with that one girl.

in writing we live life twice: once in the experience, and again in recording and reflecting upon our experience.

The year you win an Oscar is the fastest year in a Hollywood actor's life. Twelve months later they ask, 'Who won the Oscar last year?'

Each Morn a thousand Roses brings, you say:Yes, but where leaves the Rose of Yesterday?

despite catastrophes that defy the imagination, daily life goes on, forgetfulness seems to conquer memory, the world keeps mysteriously renewing itself.

I wish I could believe in the otherworld I wish I could believe in a place Of reunions outside of memory

Writing fixes the evanescence of sound and holds it against death.

He could never stand still but now Something that had once been my son Lay there restless spirit Who left the house one rainy night And never returned Lost boy Who will never be found again Anywhere but eternity