Memory is a crazy woman that hoards colored rags and throws away food.

I am fading away. Slowly but surely. Like the sailor who watches his home shore gradually disappear, I watch my past recede. My old life still burns within me, but more and more of it...

Only memories have a future.

When your heart knows the truth, it never forgets.

God always provides a pleasant memory to help ease the pain of a bad experience.

Fantasies… who needs fantasies? I have memories.

The past is a hotel. You can visit any time; enjoy the view. But you can’t live there. The cost is to high.

At the heart of memory, is the stillness of time.

Have you ever been homesick for someplace that doesn’tactually exist anymore? Someplace that exists only in yourmind?

Sometimes Midas suspected that life was a film with subliminal messages. Things would move along with an acceptable degree of predictability, then be punctuated by some horrible childhood memory.

The hollowness in his chest, the tense yearning, the loneliness he braces against, every morning until he can immerse himself in work and forget. Not love. Something else, something with a power that endures. Not...

The arrow of time obscures memory of both past and future circumstance with innumerable fallacies, the least trivial of which is perception.

Sometimes things just slip past you, into your hands and out through your fingers. In my half-in/half-out state I began to wonder if that could happen to people, too.

I had a head for religious ideas. They were the first ideas I ever encountered. They made other ideas seem mean….I had miles of Bible in memory: some perforce, but most by hap, like the...

Inconstancy of every second punishes me.The wind, the rain, the clouds, the days,I try to grasp the hours but they banish me,And I remain in the vortex of incongruity.The lone coyote shrieks,Startling my soul into...

Perhaps memory is a thing that everyone involved has to work at, like stitching up a big quilt out of everything that ever happened to you.

We are the things we don’t remember,the blank spaces, the forgotten words.

No self is of itself alone. It has a long chain of intellectual ancestors. The “I” is chained to ancestry by many factors… This is not mere allegory, but an eternal memory.

So if existence was just binary, dead or alive, here or not here, what would be the fucking point in anything? My mom used to say that’s why we have memory. And the opposite of...

Because memory is time folding back on itself. To remember is to disengage from the present. In order to reach any kind of success in automobile racing, a driver must never remember.

That as people age, accumulate more and more private experiences, their sense of history tightens, narrows, becomes more personal? So that to the extent that they remember events of social importance, they remember only for...

The time is ripe for looking back over the day, the week, the year, and trying to figure out where we have come from and where we are going to, for sifting through the things...

Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!

The vivid memory of the woods had blossomed into a visceral longing for the Ridge, so immediate that I felt the ghost of my vanished house rise around me, a cold mountain wind thrumming past...

The halcyon days of childhood, a time when everything lay open before him, when the most minor episodes could be construed as events and every chance encounter … gave rise to fresh insights.

Most have been forgotten. Most deserve to be forgotten. The heroes will always be remembered. The best. The best and the worst. And a few who were a bit of both.

He’s not learning. He’s not experiencing. He’s remembering.He walks to the next screen, hungry to be himself again.

I have more than once tried to analyse this apparently deliberate form of self-torture that seems common to so many people in face of the extinction of a valued life, human or animal, and it...

The instant is not in time — time is in the instant.

What he wanted was not just to hear about Hailsham, but to remember Hailsham, just like it had been his own childhood. He knew he was close to completing and so that’s what he was...

The memory slowly faded away. I could feel tears strolling down my snout from my eyes. I missed my father… He did what he could to save me that day.

certain details, somewhat curtailed, live in my memory. But I don’t see anything anymore: I can search the past in vain, I can only find these scraps of images and I am not sure what...

It is interesting how one word can spark memories that one believes she has buried beyond recognition. War reminded me of the sharp and bittersweet smell of burning homes, temples, and palaces. It made my...

Art is their weapon against forgetting.

Perfume is the key to our memories

and what is more you have the correct attitude You don’t care if it ends or if it goes on And as for the women and the music there will be plenty of that in...

Now I’m just like everybody else, and it’s so funny, the way monogamy is funny, the waysomeone falling down in the street is funny.I entered a revolving door and emergedas a human being. When you...

Memories aren’t stored in the heart or the head or even the soul, if you ask me, but in the spaces between any given two people.

Identity is memory; when memory disappears, the self dissolves and love with it.

The ORDINARY RESPONSE TO ATROCITIES is to banish them from consciousness. Certain violations of the social compact are too terrible to utter aloud: this is the meaning of the word unspeakable.Atrocities, however, refuse to be...

Dates are hard to remember because they consist of figures; figures are monotonously unstriking in appearance, and they don’t take hold, they form no pictures, and so they give the eye no chance to help....

Research on organised abuse emphasises the diversity of organised abuse cases, and the ways in which serious forms of child maltreatment cluster in the lives of children subject to organised victimisation (eg Bibby 1996b, Itziti...

In a sense, he thought, all we consist of is memories. Our personalities are constructed from memories, our lives are organized around memories, our cultures are built upon the foundation of shared memories that we...

There is a story that Simonides was dining at the house of a wealthy nobleman named Scopas at Crannon in Thessaly, and chanted a lyric poem which he had composed in honor of his host,...

I came back for you

human beings do not perceive things whole; we are not gods but wounded creatures, cracked lenses, capable only of fractured perceptions

An act of kindness may take only a moment of our time, but when captured in the heart the memory lives forever.

Nature has certain mechanism to record all memories of every life being.

Cultures are never merely intellectual constructs. They take form through the collective intelligence and memory, through a commonly held psychology and emotions, through spiritual and artistic communion.

We carry our wounds and perhaps even worse, our capacity to wound, forward with us. If we learn not only to tell our stories but to listen to what our stories tell us … we...