Quotes About Memory

The feeling of love remains until we forget about the other. Did you know that? Because we can fall in love alone too.

The feeling of love remains until we forget about the other.

We should use our imagination more than our memory.

People prefer remembering to imagining. Memory deals with familiar things; imagination deals with the unknown. Imagination can be frightening—it requires risking a departure from the familiar.

I stopped believing in Santa Claus when I was six. Mother took me to see him in a department store and he asked for my autograph.

This is..." "You completely forgot what day it is, didn't you?" "Eh?" "It's your birthday!!" "Huh... It is? Oh!" "Idiot!

To the woman in the restaurant today, the doll in her arms was the real child who still lived in her memories.

Not the power to remember, but its very opposite, the power to forget, is a necessary condition for our existence.

I mention her name and the old pain returns. Forget her, you say? How can you forget a living human being?

For example, users with a full hard drive may unwittingly delete configuration files under the mistaken assumption that deleting a boot.ini file must be okay because they don't remember ever using it.

Just as you unreel the thread from a spool, I want the past to become present." When she said this, actually she made past time present. In her mind the past became alive and was the present.

Glancing back over his shoulder seemed to be habit, for Touch had noticed him do it before, as if the man thought someone might be following him. "Stranger, what did you say your name was?" asked the blacksmith. "I didn't," answered the thief. In fact, he had, but he changed his name more often than his stockings, and now he couldn't remember what name he'd bestowed upon himself.

It's the damnedest thing: The dead abandon you; then, with the passage of time, you abandon the dead.

The Heart has the greatest retention power...... Things which touch the heart remain in memory forever, while the others fade away eventually!!!!

At the end, we receive ashes. They are not condensations of being but a reminder that even fire cannot destroy what has been loved. ––

Grief is not a record of what has been lost but of who has been loved. In the end, we weep not only for the death of someone but for the startling question that faces us: what shall we do with the love we have for the deceased? Where will we put it?

Who will remember, passing through this gate,The unheroic dead who fed the guns?Who shall absolve the foulness of their fate—Those doomed, conscripted, unvictorious ones?

For it is humanly certain that most of us remember very little of what we have read. To open almost any book a second time is to be reminded that we had forgotten well-nigh everything that the writer told us. Parting from the narrator and his narrative, we retain only a fading impression; and he, as it were, takes the book away from us and tucks it under his arm.

The dead...are more real than the living because they are complete.

Phantoms of thought and memory thinned and fled.

We were carrying something in our heads which belonged to us alone, and to those we had left behind us in the battle.

Our hysterical patients suffer from reminiscences.

Where does a thought go when it's forgotten?

Whole scenes of your life slip away forever if you don't put them down in ink.