Quotes About Reminiscence

What were the seventies even about? Was it all smoking and listening to this kind of stuff and riding around in huge cars without wearing seat belts? This was the song everyone liked?

He sat gazing into the past.

But tears are an indulgence. Memory sings.

When you come to me, unbidden, Beckoning me To long-ago rooms, Where memories lie. Offering me, as to a child, an attic, Gatherings of days too few

Only the memories.

while toasting] To blow jobs we want back

By late August, I'm on my second sublet, and I've been working as a copywriter long enough to know I'm not good at it. I seem to be reliving the life I had when I was twenty-two, but I'm about to run twenty-eight, which feels like the opposite of twenty-two.

My kith and kin have long since vanished into time—

All gone now, just memory is left, and memories fade. But the joy is bedded in the memory

Eu ama Ceinwyn demais. Mesmo agora, anos depois, sorria ao pensar nela, e algumas vezes acordo de noite com lágrimas no rosto e sei que se devem a ela.

The most important matters in Plato's philosophy are: first, his Utopia, which was the earliest of a long series; second, his theory of ideas, which was a pioneer attempt to deal with the still unsolved problem of universals; third, his arguments in favour of immortality; fourth, his cosmogony; fifth, his conception of knowledge as reminiscence rather than perception.

I come from a family who prided themselves, both sides, on memory. And I was told growing up, constantly, that I was born with a really good memory.

Boy, you know, it's amazing how your brain can turn into a sieve, and you can literally forget episodes that you have shot.

As a kid, I remember John Daly bombing it around St. Andrews in 1995 to win the British Open, and people say we are similar in a lot of ways.

We all pine for a time in life when things were simpler. Even when they weren't necessarily simpler, hindsight makes them look a lot simpler. The reality of it was that it wasn't.

Indeed, we own a bond, my friend. That most sublime of all: reminiscence for our vanished youth.

She held out her hand and we sat there together like grade-school kids on a field trip. "Line up in twos and no talking." Life itself is a peculiar outing. Sometimes I still feel like I need a note from my mother.

Every time it happened, it was like coming upon an empty room I didn't know was there, and stepping in, I would be pierced by it, by the ghost of the one who'd once filled it up. I didn't stumble into this place much anymore, but when I did, it hollowed out little pieces of my chest.

one must forget the past—more accurately, one must remember the necessity of forgetting.

No, he didn't win," Great-Uncle Merry said, and even in the clear afternoon sunshine he seemed with every word to become more remote, as ancient as the rock behind him and the old world of which he spoke.

It was the past, the uncomplicated past seen far away at the end of the golden corridor of nostalgia

The problem isn't that people remember through photographs but that they remember only the photographs.

People robbed of their past seem to make the most fervent picture takers, at home and abroad.

Where would we be without it, memory? Well, it'll never die here. Never in this country. We feed it too well.