Quotes About Memory

He swam at my feet, Powerful arms in broad strokes Sweeping the sand. So I asked this man, What seas do you swim? And to this he answered, 'I have seen shells and the like On this desert floor, So I swim this land's memory Thus honouring its past,' Is the journey far, queried I. 'I cannot say,' he replied, 'For I shall drown long before I am done.' Sayings of the Fool Thenys Bule" Steven Erikson - Malazan Book of the Fallen 02 Deadhouse Gates

Why do the survivors remain anonymous—as if cursed—while the dead are revered? Why do we cling to what we lose while we ignore what we still hold?

Not even the dead know the end to war. -Iskar Jarak

Memory did not let go; it remained the net dragged in one's wake, with all sorts of strange things snarled in the knotted strands.

The past is all patterns, and those patterns remain beneath our feet, even as the stars above reveal their own patterns—for the stars we gaze upon each night are naught but an illusion from the past.

The dust dreams of the world it had once been. But the dust, alas, does not command the wind.

Name none of the fallen, for they stood in our place, and stand there still in each moment of our lives. Let my death hold no glory, and let me die forgotten and unknown. Let it not be said that I was one among the dead to accuse the living.

Strange how a land untraveled can look so familiar" Mappo blinked, the memories scattered by the sound of that familiar soft voice. He glanced up at Icarium. "Stranger still how the mind's eye can travel so far and so fast, yet return in an instant" The Jhag smiled. "With that eye you might explore the entire world" "With that eye you might escape it".

I dont care how Ill be remembered after death. For all I know people will put all my work in a skip the next day.

What was the competition? Well, I remember this Puerto Rican who came out in a short skirt and a gun.

I come to Jerusalem. There, the sky is blue and memory becomes clear.

I believe playing for such a great club like United honours my father's memory, and the inspiration and drive he gave to me when I was young. I hope he is proud looking at me from the sky.

I feel a lot of confidence from that memory, playing final first time in Grand Slam. But also I always think that I could play a little better in a final. I lost straight sets. I didn't do well.

I haven't had television since 1991, and it definitely influences me. As a child of the 1970s, I couldn't hold a narrative in my head; I was lucky if I could hold a joke in my head, because every time you turn on television or radio, it wipes the slate clean - at least in my case.

The Rwandan policy of putting the genocide behind them is incredibly effective in many ways. But it's also incredibly frightening to think that this nation is being asked put this mass slaughter behind them.

There was a movie called 'Hawk the Slayer' when I was a kid. I think only three people saw it, but me and my brother saw it. I remember when I was a kid thinking that's kind of cool. It was just this sort of action adventure-y sort of thing.

The quantity and quality of your sleep plays a major role in your ability to learn new information.

The first pet I remember was a cat called Baby. She would sleep with me, and I could call her from anywhere, and she would come running.

Before he went to sleep, I told him a little story about a rabbit we saw run around the beach house we rented.

I saw a ghost once, about 20 years ago. It took the form of someone coming out of a sleeping body and sitting at the foot of the bed.

If the dinosaurs are any indication, there's a place in our pantheon for the extinct. My son has a blue plushy allosaurus he calls Spot-Spot, with whom he often sleeps.

Every photo you take communicates something about a moment in time - a brief slice of time of where you were, who you were with, and what you were doing.

My mother had found this album of all these old slides from the '50s of me as a kid and I said, 'We should have these made into pictures because the color's so beautiful.' There were pictures of me from 1955 as a little baby wearing all these elaborate outfits, and in these pictures was this amazing story of a gay man and his mother.

Looking back across the years, so many pictures flash on the screen of my memory that just as I begin to see one clearly, another slides in, blotting out the first, itself to be pushed aside by the next and the next and the next.