Quotes About Memory

No one will sing songs in our memory. We are the last of the Free Companies of Khatovar. Our traditions and memories live only in these Annals. We are our own mourners.

No one will sing songs in our memory. We are the last of the Free Companies of Khatovar. Our traditions and memories live only in these Annals. We are our only mourners. It is the Company against the world. Thus it has been and ever will be.

One's own yesterday is a ghost that will not be laid down.

Nikt nie za?piewa pie?ni na nasz? cze??. Jeste?my ostatni? z Wolnych Kompanii z Khotovaru. Nasze tradycje i wspomnienia ?yj? wy??cznie w tych Kronikach. Jedynie my przywdziejemy ?a?ob? po sobie samych. Kompania przeciw ca?emu ?wiatu. Tak by?o i tak zawsze b?dzie.

My equally peerless memory allows as to how she included you in that base canard." "Would that be a musical instrument? Might we find it in the orchestra pit? What kind of musician plays the bass canard?

There is no time in the limbic system. Because of this our past often takes us over without warning and we relive it in ways that can be very troublesome. The

Ya ves qué tontería, me gusta escribir tu nombre, llenar papeles con tu nombre, llenar el aire con tu nombre; decir a los niños tu nombre, escribir a mi padre muerto y contarle que te llamas así. Me creo que siempre que lo digo me oyes. Me creo que da buena suerte. Voy por las calles tan contenta y no llevo encima más que tu nombre.

Reminiscences of old, dried-over pains were no consolation in the face of this. They had the effect of cold beads of water on a hot iron - they danced and fizzled up while the room stank from their steam.

In the telling, it seemed I was back there once more.

I burst out with, "Aaron—Bear—" The names are unfamiliar on my tongue, like I've never spoken them before.

Actually, Chase is recalling more and more these days. He's still got a long way to go before his amnesia is totally cured. But every now and then, I'll see him in the school halls, gray in the face and haunted, and I know he's just remembered some horrible thing he did in his former life. Poor guy.

Bear's eyes narrow. "Exactly how much do you remember about the Graybeard Motel?" "Nothing," I reply honestly. He grins. "If you want to go there when you don't have to, you didn't just scramble your brains. You knocked them out completely

It's funny—I've forgotten everything about my own football career, but I know the game itself. When I shoot footage of the action on the field, I get what the players

It only underscores the feeling that everything from our past has vanished.

I am afraid that as people grow old there is a tendency for them to believe that what the past *ought* to have been it was.

My memory plays me odd tricks these days [...] Age spares us nothing, old friend. Like ancient trees, we die from the top.

No man ever knows when he is happy; he can only know when he was happy.

But then Americans have always lived entirely in the present, and this generation is no different from mine except that now there is more of a past for them to ignore.

This morning I reread the last section, trying to see it objectively, to match what I have put down with the memory I still bear of that first encounter with John Cave. I have not, I fear, got it. But this is as close as I can come to recalling long-vanished emotions and events.

And at some length Dr. Bogart spoke of a period in which skies were bluer, water purer, potatoes better-grained than now. I know the speech. It is the tirade of the old.

Sir U__ fell down from a speeding train, Which did some damage to his brain, And after that he did not know How to pronounce the letter O.

There are small bits of useless knowledge which stick to one's brain like barnacles to a boat.

I couldn't have thought of her more. Even vacancy was crowded with her.

She had lost all our memories for ever, and it was as though by dying she had robbed me of part of myself. I was losing my individuality. It was the first stage of my own death, the memories dropping off like gangrened limbs.