Quotes About Memory

Quella strada del passato si srotolava confusamente di fianco a noi come se la tazza della vita si fosse rovesciata e ogni cosa fosse impazzita.

My work comprises one vast book like Proust's except that my remembrances are written on the run instead of afterwards in a sick bed.

ve kimse ama kimse bilmiyor kimseye yaÅŸlanman?n periÅŸan süprüntülerinden baÅŸka ne olaca??n?; ve ben Neal Cassady'yi an?yorum ve an?yorum, hatta asla bulamad???m?z yaÅŸl? babas? Neal Cassady'yi; ve Neal Cassady'yi an?yorum. Neal Cassady'yi an?yorum.

Dean took out other pictures. I realized these were all the snapshots which our children would look at someday with wonder, thinking their parents had lived smooth, well-ordered, stabilized-within-the-photo lives and got up in the morning to walk proudly on the sidewalks of life, never dreaming the raggedy madness and riot of our actual lives, or actual night, the hell of it, the senseless nightmare road.

The one thing that we yearn for in our living days, that makes us sigh and groan and undergo sweet nauseas of all kinds, is the remembrance of some lost bliss that was probably experienced in the womb and can only be reproduced (though we hate to admit it) in death.

He's filling empty space with the substance of our lives, confessions of his bellybottom strain, remembrance of ideas, rehashes of old blowing.

She looked exactly like the little girl she had been.

I realized these were all the snapshots which our children would look at someday with wonder, thinking their parents had lived smooth, well-ordered, stabilized-within-the-photo lives and got up in the morning to walk proudly on the sidewalks of life, never dreaming the raggedy madness and riot of our actual lives, or actual night, the hell of it, the senseless nightmare road.

So even that marvelous, long remembrances of life all the time in the world to just sit there or lie there or walk about slowly remembering all the details of life which now because a million lightyears away have taken on the aspect (as they must've for Proust in his sealed room) of pleasant mental movies brought up at will and projected for further study—And pleasure—As I imagine God to be doing this very minute, watching his own movie, which is us.

La seule chose après laquelle nous languissons durant notre existence, qui nous fait soupirer et gémir et souffrir toutes sortes de doucereuses nausées, c'est le souvenir de quelque félicité perdue que l'on a sans doute éprouvée dans le sein maternel et qui ne saurait se reproduire (mais nous nous refusons à l'admettre) que dans la mort. Mais qui souhaite mourir ?

Of her own experience she had no memory of the thing happening; but in her instinct, which was the experience of all mothers of wolves, there lurked a memory of fathers that had eaten their new-born and helpless progeny.

It was during this period that he might have hearkened to the memories of the lair and the stream and run back to the Wild. But the memory of his mother held him...So he remained in his bondage waiting for her.

I had a twin, and he didn't make it.

I remember watching the Twin Towers collapse. Because it was another country and looked like a film, I just sort of thought, 'Oh.' I didn't think that much. Then three days later, it hit me. I was in a terrible state, and I was tearful for three or four days.

I remember, many years ago, coming over the Brooklyn Bridge in the night and seeing the skyline of Manhattan, with the Twin Towers. This was, for me, a kind of religious experience.

By some crazy twist of fate I was able to remember the moments leading up to the bombings, and in the end, it helped people. I'm not a hero; I did what any normal person would do.

On 'Hairless Toys,' I've tried to create an ambiguous character to go with an ambiguous record. She's anything but rock n' roll - she's so not rock n' roll that, in a twisted way, she's kind of radical. She's like someone from my memory, almost like my mother, and she's lost in some space-time between the 1960s and the late '80s.

Thanks to Twitter, iPads, BlackBerrys, voice-activated in-dash navigation systems, and a hundred other technologies that offer distraction anywhere, anytime, boredom has loosened its grip on us at last - that once-crushing 'weight' has become, for the most part, a memory.

When I was two, a dragonfly flew near me. A man knocked it to the ground and trod on it. I remember crying because I'd caused the dragonfly to be killed.

I think Americans, as a nation and culture, once something is recognized for a week or two, people kind of forget about.

I never think 'I've made it' because, in football, you can be forgotten within two weeks and I don't ever want to be forgotten.

My teammates will tell you I find it hard to remember what happened two weeks earlier, let alone what happened a decade and a half back.

I can't remember a Christmas where I didn't have a rotten cold, and I always get one about two weeks into a job. I definitely get man flu - I'm not brave at all.

I want no epitaphs of profound history and all that type of thing. I contributed. I would hope they would say that, and I would hope somebody liked me.