Quotes About Memory

In schools today, on paper it may appear that kids are learning skills but in reality they are only renting them, soon to forget what they've learned over the weekend or summer vacation.

It's like grains of sand crumbling in warning at the beginning of a landslide to realise I have not missed him.

She turns and walks on to the plane and the red dress flips and swishes through the doorway, vanishing from his sight but burned on to his retina like a hot kiss.

My mouth keeps forgetting what my head has learned.

Willa Cather said that she write best when she stopped trying to write and began simply to remember.

I also noticed that as you go to sleep the ideas continue, but they become less and less logically interconnected. You don't notice that they're not logically connected until you ask yourself, "What made me think of that?" and you try to work your way back, and often you can't remember what the hell did make you think of that!

With most men, scarce a link of memory holds yesterday and to-day together.

The best effort of a fine person is felt after we have left their presence.

I cannot remember the books I've read any more than the meals I have eaten; even so, they have made me.

I suppose every old scholar has had the experience of reading something in a book which was significant to him, but which he could never find again. Sure he is that he read it there; but no one else ever read it, nor can he find it again, though he buy the book and ransack every page.

The borrowing is often honest enough, and comes of magnanimity and stoutness. A great man quotes bravely and will not draw on his invention when his memory serves him with a word as good.

The best effect of fine persons is felt after we have left their presence.

I cannot remember the books I've read any more than the meals I have eaten; even so, they have made me.

You can use your senses either to drown in the NOW or enacting your past!

The past was read-only.

From my mother's sleep I fell into the State,And I hunched in its belly till my wet fur froze.Six miles from earth, loosed from its dream of life,I woke to black flak and the nightmare fighters.When I died they washed me out of the turret with a hose.

One of the most obvious facts about grownups to a child is that they have forgotten what it is like to be a child.

From my mother's sleep I fell into the State, And I hunched in its belly till my wet fur froze. Six miles from earth, loosed from the dream of life, I woke to black flak and the nightmare fighters. When I died they washed me out of the turret with a hose.

The days went by for him, all different and all the same. The boy was happy, and yet he didn't know that he was happy, exactly: he couldn't remember having been unhappy. If one day as he played at the edge of the forest some talking bird had flown down and asked him: "Do you like your life" he would not have known what to say, but would have asked the bird: "Can you not like it?

son, you won't need to talk to my headstone in order to talk to me. I won't be there. I'll be in the air and the Earth. I'll be in the stars that light the African heavens. I'll be watchin' over you and your family. My spirit will always be close enough to touch and protect you all. So, do not grieve for me. My body will die, but my soul will live on. For my soul cannot die. Always remember that my soul is the spark of God in me.

African Americans must spiritually survive from the meager basket of a few mean yesterdays. No chance for significant group progress there. None. For we have been largely overwhelmed by a majority culture that wronged us dramatically, emptied our memories, undermined our self-esteem, implanted us with palatable voices, and stripped us along the way of the sheerest corona of self-definition.

We, like others, need to define ourselves, to place our lives in a long-term linear intergenerational context. We, like others, need to celebrate ourselves by seeing ourselves celebrated. We, like others, need to stare at objects that can help us discover reflections of ourselves in an idealized past. That's really what it's all about, isn't it? Remembering. The human's innate need to remember one's self before one's own time.

I'm aware that Chloe may have no memory of me at all. She's too young. But I want her to grow up knowing that I was the first man ever to fall in love with her.

I've often carried a crayon in my shirt pocket. When I need to go back in time, I put it under my nose and I take another hit.