Quotes About Traces

It's impossible to move, to live, to operate at any level without leaving traces, bits, seemingly meaningless fragments of personal information.

Biographers search for traces, for evidence of activity, for signs of movement, for letters, for diaries, for photographs.

Love, like light, is a thing that is enacted better than defined: we know it afterward by the traces it leaves on paper.

Everything I feel attracted to, all things that hold me enthralled in an ever more fierce and tyrannical fascination: that is all I can call reality. All the rest is just chance. This kind of reality leaves more traces of suffering than of happiness: but nobody thinks about that.

Our act of reading, together with our reflections on its methods, therefore parallels the phenomenon's act of disappearing. What we are given to read are always the traces of a specific act of withdrawal.

People leave traces of themselves where they feel most comfortable, most worthwhile.

How can the mind be so imperfect? she says with a smile. I look at my hands. Bathed in the moonlight, they seem like statues, proportioned to no purpose. It may well be imperfect, I say, but it leaves traces. And we can follow those traces, like footsteps in the snow. Where do the lead? To oneself, I answer. That's where the mind is. Without the mind, nothing leads anywhere. I look up. The winter moon is brilliant, over the Town, above the Wall. Not one thing is your fault, I comfort her.

History is only written from what remains.

We were now, as I before mentioned, upon this St. Joseph's trail. It was evident, by the traces, that large parties were a few days in advance of us; and as we too supposed them to be Mormons, we had some apprehension of interruption.

And you shall find upon the beach The traces of my dancing

What is assumed to be the materialisation of the inner truth of the self is in fact an idealisation of the material - objectified - traces of consumer choices.

Savage though he was, and hideously marred about the face—at least to my taste— his countenance yet had a something in it which was by no means disagreeable. You cannot hide the soul. Through all his unearthly tattooings, I thought I saw the traces of a simple honest heart;

The traces of such an illness as his do not lightly die away. We should have written long ago, but we knew nothing of his friends, and there was nothing on him, nothing that anyone could understand. He came in the train from Klausenburg, and

Certain relics seemed to carry lingering traces of energy, the residue of the passionate lives of those who'd touched them.

Here are presented the results of the enquiry carried out by Herodotus of Halicarnassus. The purpose is to prevent the traces of human events from being erased by time, and to preserve the fame of the important and remarkable achievements produced by both Greeks and non-Greeks; among the matters covered is, in particular, the cause of the hostilities between Greeks and non-Greeks.

An e-book is not a physical book. That point might seem trite until you stop for a moment to think how much simpler it is, in a certain sense, to destroy electronic than physical traces.

There are just traces of me and not a shadow left…Without the traces of your iridescence to make my silhouette.

But it would be risky to explain so widespread a myth by phenomena of which no geological traces have been found. The majority of the flood myths seem in some sense to form part of the cosmic rhythm: the old world, peopled by a fallen humanity, is submerged under the waters, and some time later a new world emerges from the aquatic "chaos.

You see, humans always leave something behind.

I sometimes wish they would swagger more now, buy bigger overcoats and wilder hats, and retain those traces of make-up that put them outside respectability and keep them rogues and vagabonds, which is what, at heart - bless 'em - they are.

And when they dusted my mind for your fingerprints they found yours.

these leftover memories

We are stories, contained within the twenty complicated centimeters behind our eyes, lines drawn by traces left by the (re)mingling together of things in the world, and oriented toward predicting events in the future, toward the direction of increasing entropy, in a rather particular corner of this immense, chaotic universe.

It is with respect to that physical system to which we belong—due to the peculiar way in which it interacts with the rest of the world, thanks to the fact that it allows traces and because we, as physical entities, consist of memory and anticipation—that the perspective of time opens up for us, like our small, lit clearing.