Quotes About Memory

It seems to me that all my life before that momentous day is infinitely remote, a fading memory of light-hearted youth, something on the other side of a shadow.

There were moments when one's past came back to one, as it will sometimes when you have not a moment to spare for yourself; but it came in the shape of an unrestful and noisy dream, remembered with wonder amongst the overwhelming realities of this strange world of plants, and water, and silence. And this stillness of life did not in the least resemble a peace. It was the stillness of an implacable force brooding over an inscrutable intention. It looked at you with a vengeful aspect.

She left a lingering smudge of smoke on the sky, and two vanishing trails of foam on the water.

brain as a shadow passes away upon a white screen. She lives in the cottage and works for Miss Swaffer. She is Amy Foster for everybody, and the child is 'Amy Foster's boy.' She calls him Johnny—which means Little John. It is impossible to say whether this name recalls anything to her. Does she ever think of the past? I have seen her hanging over the boy's cot in a

Such were the days, still, hot, heavy, disappearing one by one into the past, as if falling into an abyss for ever open in the wake of the ship; and the ship, lonely under a wisp of smoke, held on her steadfast way black and smouldering in a luminous immensity, as if scorched by a flame flicked at her from a heaven without pity. The nights descended on her like a benediction.

He remembered that she was pretty, and, more, that she had a special grace in the intimacy of life. She had the secret of individuality which excites and escapes.

Jim started, and his answer was full of deference; but the odious and fleshy figure, as though seen for the first time in a revealing moment, fixed itself in his memory for ever as the incarnation of everything vile and base that lurks in the world we love: in our own hearts we trust for our salvation, in the men that surround us, in the sights that fill our eyes, in the sounds that fill our ears, and in the air that fills our lungs.

Let her go. To-morrow I shall forget. I am a firm man, . . . firm as a . . . rock, . . . firm . . .

The actors of 1812 have long since left the stage, their personal interests have vanished leaving no trace, and nothing remains of that time but its historic results.

In plucking the fruit of memory one runs the risk of spoiling its bloom

recollect thee now That thou this very day hast drunk of Lethe;

He was most alive at his business. He loved his wife, or thought he did. But did he miss Miriam? At first, yes, a lot, but by now days, whole weeks, went by when he didn't think about her.

Remember the old guy with the bell?

If you tell the truth you don't have to remember anything.

Memory is a class of thoughts which takes as its object something already experienced.

where are the snowdens of yesteryear?

Maybe I am senile already and people are too kind to tell me. People are not kind and would tell me. (Maybe people have told me, and I'm too senile to remember).

Now, where were we? Read me back the last line." " 'Read me back the last line,' " read back the corporal who could take shorthand.

First impressions die slowly, bad impressions take even longer

Now, where were we? Read me back the last line.' 'Read me back the last line,' read back the corporal who could take shorthand. 'Not my last line, stupid!' the colonel shouted. 'Somebody else's.' 'Read me back the last line.' read back the corporal. 'That's my last line again!' shrieked the colonel, turning purple with anger. 'Oh, no, sir,' corrected the corporal. 'That's my last line. I read it to you just a moment ago. Don't you remember, sir? It was only a moment ago.

Even people who were not there remembered vividly exactly what happened next.

You're inches away from death every time you go on a mission. How much older can you be at your age? A half minute before that you were stepping into high school, and an unhooked brassiere was as close as you ever hoped to get to Paradise. Only a fifth of a second before that you were a small kid with a ten-week summer vacation that lasted a hundred thousand years and still ended too soon. Zip! They go rocketing by so fast. How the hell else are you ever going to slow down?

All, all dead: and ourselves left alone amidst a new generation whom we know not, and who know not us.

As Baudoin explained: A very simple way of securing this (impregnation of the subconscious mind) is to condense the idea which is to be the object of suggestion, to sum it up in a brief phrase which can be readily graven on the memory, and to repeat it over and over again as a lullaby.