Quotes About Memory

Todo parecía tan real que apenas podía imaginarme que me hubiese sucedido en otro tiempo; y, sin embargo, cada episodio acontecía no como un paso más en la lógica de las cosas, sino como algo esperado. Así es como el recuerdo gasta bromas para bien o para mal; para el placer o el dolor; para la felicidad o la aflicción. Así se explica que la vida tenga sabor agridulce y que lo que uno hiciera antaño se revista de eternidad.

Remember my friend, that knowledge is stronger than memory, and we should not trust the weaker.

What lunatic had decided that when people died you should hire a taxidermist to fix them up for one final look? She would much rather remember them alive than on grotesque display in their Sunday best.

He was just . . . gone. He had been there a moment before. He was being so brave. And then he didn't know me. He's been taken someplace. We don't know where.

They'll never know about this decision. They'll never know how much their friendship meant to me. But I'll know, and that's enough.

With these coming children we never relinquish the past. We keep seeing somebody gone in each new one.

But this was what happened when you didn't want to visit and confront the past: the past starts visiting and confronting you.

But... what about us? What about the past? she asks blankly. The past isn't real. it's just a dream, I say. Don't mention the past.

I've forgotten who I had lunch with earlier, and even more important, where.

Hip, I murmur, remembering last night, how I lost it completely in a stall at Nell's---my mouth foaming, all I could think about were insects, lots of insects, and running at pigeons, foaming at the mouth and running at pigeons.

From those of us who are left behind: you will be remembered, you were the one I needed, I loved you in my dreams.

her taste in music haunted my memory and I had to stop at Tower Records on the Upper West Side to buy ninety dollars' worth of rap CDs but, as expected, I'm at a loss: [...] voices uttering ugly words like digit, pudding, chunk.

El pasado no es real. Sólo es un sueño.

When Blair bites her lower lip she's eighteen again.

So many people died last year: the accidental overdose, the car wreck in East Hampton, the surprise illness. People just disappeared. I fall asleep to the music coming from the Abbey, a song from the past, "Hungry Like the Wolf," rising faintly above the leaping chatter of the club, transporting me for one long moment into someone both young and old. Sadness: it's everywhere.

And I just stood there in the fading afternoon light, realizing at seventeen that I was already staring into my past — that the past had a meaning that would always define you. I remember this being one of my first moments nearing adulthood, when I realized how powerful memory was — or at least it was the first time it hurt the most. And there was nothing I could do about the pain of the past — it just settled over me.

Blair thinks about it for a moment and then says slowly, evenly, "If Cliff slept with Didi, then he must have slept with Ã¢â'¬Â¦ Raoul." "Who's Raoul?" Alana and Kim ask at the same time. I open my menu and pretend to read it, wondering if I slept with Raoul. Name seems familiar.

Some people--and I pray I will be one of them--never forget what it was like, which enables them to mentor people of any age.

As with many tempests in teapots among small, contentious, ideologically charged groups with a sense of millennial mission, it is hard for outsiders with the perspective of time to figure out what they were thinking, and why, and everyone involved can only remember that their side was right, and the other side wrong, with the most uncharitable possible spin put on the whole contretemps.

Everyone who was gone was really still here.

Sometimes the only thing you need for madness is a memory burned into your eyes.

When a field is declared volatile, the compiler and runtime are put on notice that this variable is shared and that operations on it should not be reordered with other memory operations. Volatile variables are not cached in registers or in caches where they are hidden from other processors, so a read of a volatile variable always returns the most recent write by any thread.

it is a common misconception that synchronized is only about atomicity or demarcating "critical sections". Synchronization also has another significant, and subtle, aspect: memory visibility. We want not only to prevent one thread from modifying the state of an object when another is using it, but also to ensure that when a thread modifies the state of an object, other threads can actually see the changes that were made.

adverse circumstances, every creature becomes something else, evolving or devolving. What makes us human is that we know what we once were, and—let us hope—we remember how to change back. Ambassador Cammar Pilru, Dispatches in Defense of Ix