Quotes About Memory

Poetry always remembers that it was an oral art before it was a written art. It remembers that it was first song.

As they say, out with one eye for remembering the past, but if you forget, out with both. And

Any man was likely to take it amiss if his name were remembered incorrectly, and there was absolutely no point in offending his subordinates unnecessarily.

Man sagt ja, die Erinnerung male mit einem goldenen Pinsel.

It was astounding to Cornelius to note that the events of 1994 had left no visible traces anywhere. Where on this avenue had they set up the famous Nyamirambo barricade? Was it there, right at the entrance to the Café des Grands Lacs, where there had been corpses that dogs and vultures came to devour? Only the city herself could have answered these questions he still couldn't ask anyone. But the city refused to show her wounds. Besides, she didn't have many.

We absolve a friend from gratitude when we remind him of a favor.

Telling stories about your memory of what happened may be entertaining for a while, but if that is all you can do it gets boring pretty fast.

The only thing worse than remembering the past is the fear of reliving it.

All writers steal from their own lives.

The dead are always available to us, just not how we'd prefer.

Junior year of high school. Ask Mom and Dad what they did yesterday, they won't remember. Ask them about anything from his youth, and it's like they studied replays at night. He held up his hands in mock surrender. "Got me.

I hadn't spoken to Rick in nine years." "Nine years," I repeated. "That would be right around the time we met." She looked at me. "Don't be dazzled by my mathematical prowess," I said. "Math is one of my hidden talents. I try not to brag.

Nastaviš živjeti svoj život, ali je nikada ne zaboraviš, kao ni onu no?, svoje osje?aje dok si je ljubio, miris njezine kose. Ona je uvijek s tobom. Razmišljaš o njoj. Možda ne svaki dan, možda ?ak ne ni svaki tjedan. Ali ona je tu. Svako malo prizoveš to sje?anje kada se osje?aš usamljeno, ali nisi siguran pruža li ti utjehu ili te boli. Pitaš se je li i s njome isto.

What about her?" Win shook his head. "God, Myron, you're such a sexist. And here she is now." Win looked toward the door. Myron did the same and immediately recognized the woman who'd entered. It was Brooke Baldwin, Win's cousin and, more to the point, mother of the still-missing Rhys. Myron hadn't seen Brooke in, what, five years, he surmised. A

You are the worst sort of friend. You are too scared to help. You will never forget that feeling. Cowardice.

They picked up their drinks and found a table near the window. "Run it through for me," he said. "Run what?" "Go back. You picked up the pictures. Josh handed them to you. Did you look at them right away?" Grace's eyes went up and to the right. She tried to remember the details. "No.

few things, I assure you, will devastate like the might-have-beens).

Remember when you asked me why I didn't say anything before you married Tom?" "It was a few days ago. I can sometimes remember back a whole week." "I

I sat up. Terese Collins. Imagery flooded in—her Class-B-felony bikini, that private island, the sun-kissed beach, her gaze that could melt teeth, her Class-B-felony bikini. It's worth mentioning the bikini twice.

Time passed, but neither one of them noticed. They talked, mostly about Chad and the kind of son he was. Jack had held on and still led by eight strokes. A gigantic lead. If he blew it this time, it would be worse than twenty-three years ago. The

tilted her head, like a dog hearing a strange sound. "Does pain happen if you don't remember it?" Kat

The Bergen County Medical Examiner's Office looked like a small elementary school. It was one level, red brick, right angles, and as unassuming a building as one could construct, but then again, what did you want in a morgue? The waiting room chairs were molded plastic and about as comfortable as a pinched nerve. Myron had been here once before, not long after Jessica's father had been murdered. The memory was not a pleasant one.

Of all liars, the smoothest and most convincing is memory

Each of us moves through life shadowed by childhood memories. We never forget. We are bent and shaped and changed by those ancient fears and hatreds. They are the mortal dreads that in a million small ways block us off or drive us towards out destiny. (Shatterday, p198)