Quotes About Memory

It will not change now After so many years; Life has not broken it With parting or tears; Death will not alter it, It will live on In all my songs for you When I am gone.

There will be stars over the place forever; Though the house we loved and the street we loved are lost, Every time the earth circles her orbit On the night the autumn equinox is crossed, Two stars we knew, poised on the peak of midnight Will reach their zenith; stillness will be deep; There will be stars over the place forever, There will be stars forever, while we sleep.

Never again the music blown as brightly Off of my heart as foam blown off a wave; Never again the melody that lightly Caressed my grief and healed the wounds it gave. Never again–I hear my dark thoughts clashing Sullen and blind as waves that beat a wall– Age that is coming, summer that is going, All I have lost or never found at all.

Now while my lips are living Their words must stay unsaid, And will my soul remember To speak when I am dead? Yet if my soul remembered You would not heed it, dear, For now you must now listen, And then you could not hear.

And a woman I used to know Who loved one man from her youth, Against the strength of the fates Fighting in somber pride, Never spoke of this thing, But hearing his name by chance, A light would pass over her face. -"Those Who Love

In Warsaw in Poland Half the world away, The one I love best of all Thought of me to-day; I know, for I went Winged as a bird, In the wide flowing wind His own voice I heard; His arms were round me In a ferny place, I looked in the pool And there was his face– But now it is night And the cold stars say: 'Warsaw in Poland Is half the world away.

Forgetting isn't enough. You can paddle away from the memories and think they are gone. But they will keep floating back, again and again and agian. They circle you, like sharks. Until, unless, something, someone? Can do more than just cover the wound.

Forgetting isn't enough. You can paddle away from the memories and think they are gone. But they will keep floating back, again and again and agian. They circle you, like sharks. Until, unless, something, someone? Can do more than just cover the wound.

Remember that no matter where I am or what I'm doing I've got a special place inside me that's all for you. It's been there since the day we met.

You were never what I wanted to forget.

I think Heaven will be like a first kiss.

For the story that shapes a child's universe also shapes the child—and by the child, the man thereafter. The memory of a burning fairy tale can govern behavior as truly as remembered fire will caution against fire forever. —WALTER WANGERIN

Story has staying power. We remember the illustrations from Sunday's sermon for months afterward, but by coffee hour we're already struggling to recite the pastor's three main points, despite various acronyms meant to help us.

Youth in our Sunday school class can repeat almost verbatim some obscure parable we dramatized last year, and yet they forget the core doctrinal statement we taught last week. Why is this? Why does story stick with us for so long?

The dusty tombs of long-dead exorcist priests lay in the alcoves below, surmounted by stone effigies, the features eroded by the passing of time and the reverent caresses of their grateful parishioners, a reminder, she knew all too well, of the brevity of life.

We ought to hate very rarely, as it is too fatiguing; remain indifferent to a great deal, forgive often and never forget.

I wanted to matter. For my life to matter. So many people die and no one knows they ever existed. They're ripples in a stream, disappearing when the wind blows.

I can't recall consciously deciding to trick time, but that is what has happened. Somehow Martin and I, instead of being leashed for all eternity to what happened sixteen years ago, instead of that being the huge Before and After defining my life, have been set free.

The sands of time are quicksands ... so much can sink into them without a trace.

It is one of the peculiar characteristics of the photograph that it isolates single moments in time.

Surely in a matter of this kind we should endeavor to do something, that we may say that we have not lived in vain, that we may leave some impress of ourselves on the sands of time.

As you may know my use of Celtic music is extremely simple and short. However there is something about it that will remain in your mind for a long, long time.

With time, many of the facts I learned were forgotten but I never lost the excitement of discovery.

Stephen King, The Gunslinger