Nos-tal-gic,’ Akira said, as though it were a word he had been struggling to find. Then he said a word in Japanese, perhaps the Japanese for ‘nostalgic.’ ‘Nos-tal-gic. It is good to be nos-tal-gic. Very...

The pleasure of remembering had been taken from me, because there was no longer anyone to remember with. It felt like losing your co-rememberer meant losing the memory itself, as if the things we’d done...

Happiness and beauty are the worst things you can have in a life, because you never forget them. They go on and on ambushing you, presumably until you die.

The feelings that still linger, decade after decade, aren’t just the residue of a love lost. They are as real as the first day I told her I loved her.” ~Corbin Jones, Voice of Innocence

I transform fiction into memory.

Wide sea, that one continuous murmur breeds along the pebbled shore of memory!

I’ve got quite a memory. Engraved in my mind, things are. I can’t forget anything…It’s not a sign of intelligence…Nothing to boast about, memory…that’s just how it is…

Memory of the knife will be gone when the flesh is gone.

sweet memories always personal and healer at needy time

But it is always easy to put together stories about a past which nobody any longer remembers, like those about journeys to countries where nobody has ever been.

He’d kept his figure despite being past his first youth. Pretty good for nearly forty.Who was she fooling? She knew quite well that he was thirty-five and a half, exactly five years older than she....

Our great mistake in education is, as it seems to me, the worship of book-learning–the confusion of instruction and education. We strain the memory instead of cultivating the mind. The children in our elementary schools...

I wonder if childhood is ever really happy. Just as well, perhaps. To be blissfully happy so young would leave one always seeking to recapture the unobtainable. Like those people who were always happiest at...

She had died at age twelve, and by now she was nothing but the memory of love– nothing, now, but bones.

It only took one imperfection. One. Then laughs would turn into screams […]. People would turn into memories and memories into nightmares.

Isolation of catastrophic experiences. Dissociation may function to seal off overwhelming trauma into a compartmentalized area of conscious until the person is better able to integrate it into mainstream consciousness. The function of dissociation is...

Beauty exists not in what is seen and remembered, but in what is felt and never forgotten.

I am hopelessly in love with a memory. An echo from another time, another place.

Tick-Tock Tick-Tock Memory The tick tock tick tocks goes the clockThe memory in my heart not aged but I am aged,As the tick tock tick tock goes on.

Her address book confirmed it, the pages inhabited equally by the living and the dead….Each name called up raucous dinner parties and gin-and-tonics on sunny patios, lazy Saturday afternoons at the swim club, station wagons...

Ture stories can’t be told forward, only backward. We invent them from the vantage point of an ever-changing present and tell ourselves how they unfolded.

VLADIMIR: (after a moment of bewilderment). We’ll see when the time comes. (Pause.) I was saying that things have changed here since yesterday.ESTRAGON: Everything oozes.VLADIMIR: Look at the tree.ESTRAGON: It’s never the same pus from...

And remember that within every lie, there is a truth hidden. Know the truth to defeat the lie.

History is the diary of humankind; to forget it is to try to navigate the future with no memory of the past.

…I still cannot tap on your walls and discover by the hollow or firm sounds which of your walls are merely decorative, and which ones hold everything up.

And since we don’t just forget things because they don’t matter but also forget things because they matter too much because each of us remembers and forgets in a pattern whose labyrinthine windings are an...

remembering is a great invention of the mind, and if you try hard enough you can remember anything, whether it really happened or not.

The act of vividly recalling a patch of the past is something that I seem to have been performing with the utmost zest all my life, and I have reason to believe that this almost...

How oddly situated a man is apt to find himself at age thirty-eight! His youth belongs to the distant past. Yet the period of memory beginning with the end of youth and extending to the...

I was the first face you saw when you were born, you were bald as my hair ran black. Now yours the last face I saw before I died, your hair ran black, as I...

Can you remember their stories? Can you feel the love that they felt?

You, whom I have always loved and never found, you whom I expected to see at the end of the rails beyond the horizon—

I looked around at the rooms that I did not see as rooms but more as a landscape for my emotions, a biography of memory.

To Savor The Scene, A Book, or A Friend.

They are embossed on every song that was a hit that summer, in every novel I read during and after his stay, on anything from the smell of rosemary on hot days to the frantic...

In memory, she lived and moved and laughed, but all that a photograph could offer was one frozen moment of a life.

…or like an old friend one has known too well and doesn’t want to see.

And that’s my comfort–that someone else was there and experienced the same thing. How else could I know it was real and not merely a dream?

Tú eres tu propio enemigo, Ryan. Empieza por perdonarte, si no te perdonas vas a vivir siempre prisionero del pasado, castigado por la memoria, que es subjetiva.

Let my body dwell in poverty, and my hands be as the hands of the toiler; but let my soul be as a temple of remembrance where the treasures of knowledge enter and the inner...

The general root of superstition : namely, that men observe when things hit, and not when they miss; and commit to memory the one, and forget and pass over the other.

We photographers deal in things which are continually vanishing, and when they have vanished there is no contrivance on earth which can make them come back again. We cannot develop and print a memory.

I am the red in remembered. Why am I red? Because I’m embarrassed.

The beast lives unhistorically; for it ‘goes into’ the present, like a number, without leaving any curious remainder.

When I returned to camp, they walked behind me on the trail, and we spoke not a word about getting skunked today, but rather talked about the days we returned with a stringer full of...

Já que não és bonita, deves salientar-te pela inteligência. Assim há se de conseguir mais na vida do que essas criaturinhas que contam com o sucesso do seu palminho de cara. Quero que aprendas também...

To forget is the secret of eternal youth. One grows old only through memory. There’s much too little forgetting.

I would take a trip down Memory Lane, but with gas prices sky high, forget about it.

I’d rather do something than read about it.””That’s fine, but if you do it, and then can’t think what it means, it’s never much of a memory. Life has more to so with memories of...

Memory is a way of holding on to the things you love, the things you are, the things you never want to lost