Quotes About Memory

We think words bring us close to people when they're gone but they're a comfort, not a substitute. Words can summon a memory but absence has no cure.

Kenangan lama memang manis dan nyaman. Dan, kadang-kadang bergelora juga dengan gelombang-gelombang. Tetapi hanya itulah sahaja yang wujud sekarang ini. Sebuah kenangan adalah sebuah rahmat yang sulit dibuang. Ia memberi kesejahteraan di waktu-waktu seperti sekarang.

Often I don't say hello to people for fear that they may not remember me.

human memory is not merely the repository of information in the brain. It is much more than this, and something that a machine can never be: a power, a force by which we mentally reproduce not just information but also our experiences, by which we shape our perceptions, introspect, interpret and analyse the direction our life has taken.

From anger results delusion, from delusion results confusion of memory ...' Not only anger, but a scroll of other unhappy emotions can fog your mind: fear, depression, self-pity, envy, grief, hatred, restlessness, anxiety.

The Newcomer's Memory Requires Labour; Just Keep Faith, Practise Zealously! You'll

It was the knowing that there had been a happier time, a place of joy and peace and security, that made the sudden absence of it all so agonizing… Not the agony of what was, but the agony of what was no longer; this was the source of all life's pain--not the fear of a hell to come, but rather the knowledge of an Eden that is no more. Hell isn't the punishment… Eden was.

The Kugels, Kugel hated to admit, might just have to, in the event of genocide, rely on the kindness of strangers. Mother used to say: I can name six million people who relied on the kindness of strangers.

What's the harm in forgetting? What does remembering do? Kugel had read that the war in the Balkans was referred to as the War of the Grandmothers; that after 50 years of peace, it was the grandmothers who reminded their offspring to hate each other, the grandmothers who reminded them of past atrocities, of indignities long gone. Never forget! shouted the grandmothers. So their grandchildren remembered, and their grandchildren died.

Boston – November 1998

Life is an infernal loop where the day before yesterday has merged with today, and yesterday has been jettisoned. We think we are moving forward in time, but we are always prisoners of the past.

The pages of life that had already been turned could not be opened again.

I paused for a moment with the strangest feeling of reverse déjà vu. Instead of getting the sense that I'd seen something before, I felt like I hadn't seen it before, even though I knew I had.

They laughed much harder than the memory was funny because it felt good to laugh.

He'd followed Dasha once before and remembered which door was hers. He knocked, peered inside, then jumped in and shut the door, quiet as brushing two feathers together. He smiled at his own stealth, then swaggered right into a chair, banging it against the wall. You oaf. He cut short his swagger and begin to move with exaggerated sneakiness. There was a certain pleasure in that, too.

Her eyes were distant, and she seemed to be listening to that voice that first told her the story, a mother, sister, or aunt. Then her voice, like her singing, cut through the crickets and crackling fire.

Her nightmare clung to her like the smell of smoke to cloth.

15. "Master Filippus believes that three disciplines define us as humans," Miri said while they walked to the peat pits. "History, Philosophy, and Poetry. History is human memory, the examination of what came before us. Philosophy is human reason, or an attempt to make sense of what is. Poetry is human imagination, seeking to express what is, even while dreaming of what might be. History, Philosophy, and Poetry—that's what sets humans apart from animals.

Maybe I got a few words wrong, but that's so near how the conversation went, I'm going to call it truth.

Ingridan was an ancient city. Memory ached in its stone arches, crept down its narrow alleys, sluiced through its seven rivers. And its newest memory still burned, raw and sore — a failed war, a nation shamed, and an army dishonored.

Today I keep thinking of all the people who have left and never returned — my brothers, Khan Tegus, our guards, this entire city. What a strange, dark world that swallows people whole.

It was my jewelry!" Briar shouted after his father because he'd forgotten to ask what was stolen.

At least one memory remained vivid: once or twice each night, ----- would turn over in his sleep, his back to her, and play a long note on the buttocks bassoon. Enjoy that adorable quirk.

she'd done her best to block it out. Back then, the future had