Quotes About Memory

Um passado que se compartilha é um sacramento de solidariedade. Quem se lembra do passado com emoção nunca sentirá tédio no presente.

The old monk looked amusedly at the young one and said, "Perhaps it is you who should tell me how it feels to carry a beautiful woman. I put the woman down back there by the river, but you are obviously still carrying her.

Much of what you see out there is manufactured by your brain, painted in like computer-generated graphics in a movie; only a very small part of the inputs to your occipital lobe comes directly from the external world, the rest comes from internal memory stores and other processes.

As one gets older, it happens that in the morning one fails to remember the airplane trip to be taken in a few hours or the lecture scheduled for the afternoon.

He remembers that it was said to him, "Our ancestors were animal forms." But he does not remember that these forms were gods. This is the psychological basis for the emergence of Darwinism.

and I'm sure I saw something like a television receptor on one end of the bench--remember that affair like a big lens set in a square box?

'Tisn't beauty, so to speak, nor good talk necessarily. It's just It. Some women'll stay in a man's memory if they once walked down a street.

God of our fathers, known of old,Lord of our far-flung battle line,Beneath whose awful Hand we holdDominion over palm and pine—Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,Lest we forget—lest we forget!

If history were taught in the form of stories, it would never be forgotten.

Sometimes, honoring the memory of what we've lost is the only redemption we have.

A book is the only immortality.

The book is the only immortality.

Every piece of writing... starts from what I call a grit... a sight or sound, a sentence or a happening that does not pass away... but quite inexplicably lodges in the mind.

A kiss makes the heart young again and wipes out the years.

The idea is that there is a kind of memory in nature. Each kind of thing has a collective memory. So, take a squirrel living in New York now. That squirrel is being influenced by all past squirrels.

It was six hours to Hosannah Beach and he didn't glance at the silver coin that Dad had given him, not even once. All the way he clutched it tight in the palm of his hand and fel the bevelled edge bite into his skin. [...] Waiting in the car while Yvonne unlocked the house, he brought his hand up to his face and opened it. His sweat had the bitter smell of hot metal, hot and bitter, this was what leaving home would always smell like.

He thought of his old tapes, the ones he'd had for years, the ones he'd used over and over again. Their silence was always different to the silence of a new tape: it was loaded, prickly with things recorded and erased; a silence that was like ghosts. That house was an old tape masquerading as a new one. It had recorded and erased, but it was pretending it had just come out of the cellophane. It had ghosts, but it wasn't owning up to them.

What is nostalgia, after all, but an attempt to preserve that which was good in the past?

Ram Bharosa says he will never forget the smile she gave him when she left the shop. She

We remember only what we want to remember.

Some friends—their eyes, their touch, their words—cannot be erased from our memory.

Apathy, or lethargy, or a combination of the two, soon casts a spell over everything and the most traumatic events are quickly forgotten.

I sat in a teashop, tasted my teeth on an old bun, and washed it down with milky tea. The bun had been around for some time, but so had I, so we were quits. At the age of forty I could digest almost anything.

Begum Para, did I say? Not the Begum Para? The saucy heroine of the silver screen? And why not? This remarkable lady had dropped in from Pakistan to play the part of my grandmother in Shubhadarshini's serial Ek Tha Rusty, based on stores of my childhood.