Blessed are the forgetful, for they get the better even of their blunders.

No matter your politics, … Love Bush or hate him. You have to support the men and women. … I think Mrs. Sheehan is disrespecting the memory of her child. It’s disrespectful. Her son made...

The only way we could remember would be by constant re-reading, for knowledge unused tends to drop out of mind. Knowledge used does not need to be remembered; practice forms habits and habits make memory...

Thought assists memory in enabling it to order the material it has assembled. So that in a systematically ordered memory every idea is individually followed by all conclusions it entails.

The event happened on my birthday. I don’t remember the date, I only know it was my birthday because there was no cake or presents.

Moving on, while he wondered, the dark through which Mr. Lecky’s light cut grew more beautiful with scents. Particles of solid matter so minute, gases so subtle, that they filtered through stopping and sealing, hung...

More fundamentally, I’m interested in memory because it’s a filter through which we see our lives, and because it’s foggy and obscure, the opportunities for self-deception are there. In the end, as a writer, I’m...

Memoria – fie memoria individuală, fie memoria colectivă care este cultura – are o dublă funcție. Una, într-adevăr, e să conserve anumite date, cealaltă să cufunde în uitare informațiile ce nu ne folosesc și care...

Like her father, Bess never forgot a hurt or a service.

Blackouts can be fun if approached with the right mindset. You just can’t sweat the fact that you’ve lost a small portion of your life for all eternity. Occasionally, little bubbles of memory will float...

Touch has a memory.

I try to clutch onto those last moments in the place that I was born to, but I was so busy *living* them! How was I to know I’d have to capture everything I ever...

The degree of slowness is directionally proportional to the intensity of memory. The degree of speed is directionally proportional to the intensity of forgetting.

Even painful memories are ties that bind.

Everything that falls upon the eye is an apparition, a sheet dropped over the world’s true workings. The nerves & brain are tricked, and one is left with dreams that these specters loose their hands...

And then, gradually, the memory of her would fade away, I had forgotten the girl of my dream.

It’s odd, I think of my poor wife often, but I can’t think of her for a long time.

Time has a memory with the universe.

It’s what we’re all trying to do, right? Remember a time that was better. Re-create a moment of that memory as we let the crisp Coke bubble down our throats. Riding bikes on a summer...

False Memory” for Errors in Memory for Details, Journal: Ethics & Behavior 14(3) pages 201-233, 2004

Memory is the treasury and guardian of all things

Even now, I wonder how much of my life is convinced.

We all have our youthful follies, embarassing to recall — but people somehow find it hard to dismiss as a youthful folly anything that has happened to be a financial success.

There were sins whose fascination was more in the memory than in the doing of them, strange triumphs that gratified the pride more than the passions, and gave to the intellect a quickened sense of...

For the human memory is short, and even when we write it in stone we quickly forget and the stones crumble and even those stones then forget.

Memories lie slumbering within us for months and years, quietly proliferating, until they are woken by some trifle and in some strange way blind us to life.

I’ll just tell you what I remember because memory is as close as I’ve gotten to building my own time machine.

True 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.

how it really was.” It means to take control of a memory, as it flashes in a moment of danger.

It’s greater than any response we’ve had in memory.

The evening’s light, silvery, casts its dull brightness onto the trees–trees gelid in this blue light of winter. But whiteness dominates with the pines and evergreens steeped in vibrant grades of silver. I hear notes...

in respect for his memory.

We have all forgot more than we remember

Some things I can never forget. I must not. Otherwise what do I have left?

It was clear that he didn’t remember me from one day to the next. The note clipped to his sleeve simply informed him that it was not our first meeting, but it could not bring...

The hippo of recollection stirred in the muddy waters of the mind.

Remembrance of things past is just for the rich. For the poor it only marks the faint traces on the path to death.

People usually will remember people most, for the stupid things they did, than the impressionable ones. This somehow strangely, makes them feel better.

The best work that anybody ever writes is the work that is on the verge of embarrassing him, always.

Time is ungovernable, but grief presents us with a choice: what do we do with the savage energies of bereavement? What do we do with the memory – or in the memory – of the...

Memories don’t fade, it is just we who start overlooking the things once done or said.

I see a cathedral, for instance, one that’s stood for centuries and I marvel and I wonder… How many people passed through the doors? What did they pray for? How many wars did they wish...

Wisdom comes through suffering.Trouble, with its memories of pain,Drips in our hearts as we try to sleep,So men against their willLearn to practice moderation.Favours come to us from gods.

In fact the flexibility of our memories makes it relatively easy because we can meld all these different memories together seamlessly to invent a new imaginary scene, one which we have never even contemplated before,...

Grey rocks, and greyer sea, And surf along the shore — And in my heart a name My lips shall speak no more.

A memory is lodged in the mind but a feeling inhabits the whole body

Nobody told me about him [my grandfather], and he died when I was six, and yet within the last year or two, that strange Indian summer of remembrance that comes to us in the leisured...

I would give anything to have that memory back–to see what it was like between us when we loved each other enough to believe it was forever.

The memory has as many moods as the temper, and shifts its scenery like a diorama.

Lose your face: become capable of loving without remembering, without phantasm and without interpretation, without taking stock. Let there just be fluxes, which sometimes dry up, freeze or overflow, which sometimes combine or diverge.