Quotes About Recollection

Do all people have that? A face, a phrase, a landscape, an air bubble from the past suddenly floating up as if released by the head warden's child from a cell in the brain while the mind is at work on some totally different matter? Something of the sort also occurs just before falling asleep when what you think you are thinking is not at all what you think. Or two parallel passenger trains of thought, one overtaking the other.

My eyes were such that literally they Took photographs. Whenever I'd permit, Or, with a silent shiver, order it, Whatever in my field of vision dwelt – An indoor scene, hickory leaves, the svelte Stilettos of a frozen stillicide – Was printed on my eyelids' nether side Where it would tarry for an hour or two, And while this lasted all I had to do Was close my eyes to reproduce the leaves

Time is but memory in the making.

The more you love a memory; the stronger and stranger it becomes

The more you love a memory, the stronger and stranger it is.

To each, or about each, of his colleagues he had said at one time or other, something... something impossible to recall in this or that case and difficult to define in general terms -- some careless bright and harsh trifle that had grazed a stretch of raw flesh.

The more you love a memory, the stronger and the stranger it becomes.

I notice I may have somehow mixed up two events, my visit with Rita to Briceland on our way to Cantrip, and our passing through Briceland again on our way back to New York, but such suffusions of swimming colors are not to be disdained by the artist in recollection.

He never saw that dress again and when he mentioned it in retrospective evocation she invariably retorted that he must have dreamt it

what was the name of that hotel, you know [nose puckered], come on, you know—with those white columns and the marble swan in the lobby? Oh, you know [noisy exhalation of breath]—the hotel where you raped me. Okay, skip it. I mean, was it [almost in a whisper] The Enchanted Hunters? Oh, it was? [musingly] Was it

I watched, with the stark lucidity of a future recollection (you know—trying to see things as you will remember having seen them)

She narrowed her eyes and concentrated on his mouth. Name. He wanted her name. She had to think about it for a second before she remembered. Great. She must have hit her head. Which, duh, explained the headache.

It was then that stories of the dreaming disease began to circulate more widely. We heard from our customers of a girl who smelled of cooking oil, who remembered all the wars ever fought. She could recall and recount every death, every rape, every wound, every moment of suffering that had ever been inflicted by a member of her ancestral lineage. The only place she could find relief from this barrage of collective memory was in water.

Never tell a computer to forget it.

If it had been great sex I doubt I'd remember he tooted between thrusts.

We forget all sorts of things that no one helps us remember

Don't you remember, Kate?" I snapped my fingers. "Mr. Boyd had a doctor's appointment right before he came home.

los olores tienen la característica de reproducir tiempos pasados junto con sonidos y olores nunca igualados en el presente.

pero nunca olvido una voz por mucho que cambie, y por muchos años que pasen. Una voz siempre tiene algo, un timbre, un tono, que la define como única.

El aire es una biblioteca y registro de todas las vidas vividas, de todas las frases dichas, de todas las palabras que aún reverberan.

Digamos que me fascina la textura que adquieres en el recuerdo.

Quise saber si olía a alcanfor porque me parecía que habría quedado impregnado, como su progenitor. Pero sólo me olió a mí misma, a mi propia sangre ya a mi mismo olor.

Is there a moment when you'll never be able to remember something again?" "No," said his wife. "Your mind will never lose anything forever that's worth keeping." She gave his temple a playful push, and he let his head fall to one side. "It's all in there.

yeah. his name was Bill,