Already, I know that all of this will stay with me forever. It’ll haunt me, but I also fear it will make me feel grateful. I say fear because at times I really don’t want...

Because I might not always have you but I’ll have the feeling of you for the rest of my life

MISS PRISMMemory, my dear Cecily, is the diary that we all carry about with us.

It is anticipation and recollection that fill the heart—never the sensation of the moment.

Some books are undeservedly forgotten; none are undeservedly remembered.

Amnesia, which is a loss of memory, is a symptom of many different trauma and/or dissociative disorders, including PTSD, Dissociative Fugue, Dissociative Disorder Not Otherwise Specified and Dissociative Identity Disorder. Amnesia can affect both implicit...

Memory changes as a person matures.

The work of memory collapses time.

He looked at the silver pocketknife in his hand. An idea came to him – possibly the stupidest, craziest idea he’d had since he thought, Hey, I’ll get Percy to swim in the River Styx!...

Writers remember everything…especially the hurts. Strip a writer to the buff, point to the scars, and he’ll tell you the story of each small one. From the big ones you get novels. A little talent...

The human mind was a devious organ, however, and it chiseled in stone that which would be best left unrecalled.

I’ll remember you… I remember everyone I’ve lost.

As well as remembering too little, I have seen too much

I now know how your angercame from skeletonsthat rattled in your heartand you couldn’t escape them.

…so you have found me and would know the tale. When a poet speaks of truth to another poet, waht hope has truth? Let me ask this, then. DOes one find memory in invention? Or...

My memory is good for some things and not others.

As we age we begin to grasp at youthful bliss like a life raft in a sea of harsh reality.

Geschichten sind unser Gedächtnis, Bibliotheken die Lagerstätten für dieses Gedächtnis und Lesen das Handwerk, mit dem wir dieses Gedächtnis neu erschaffen können, indem wir es rezitieren und glossieren, es wieder in unsere eigene Erfahrung rückübersetzen...

Loss alone is but the wounding of a heart; it is memory that makes it our ruin.

For years I’d been trying to forget…, locking it up and burying it deep in my memory. The journey… had shattered that, bringing it all back – but now that I’d faced it, I found...

Yes, that’s how it was then, that part there we called ‘France’”. I was filled with the deep affection of nostalgia- and then I opened my eyes.

If it were not my purpose to combine barbarian things with things Hellenic, to traverse and civilize every continent, to search out the uttermost parts of land and sea, to push the bounds of Macedonia...

We are living in a culture entirely hypnotized by the illusion of time, in which the so-called present moment is felt as nothing but an infintesimal hairline between an all-powerfully causative past and an absorbingly...

When all is lost, there is still a memory.

[M]any people believe that memory works like a recording device. You just record the information, then you call it up and play it back when you want to answer questions or identify images. But decades...

Little girl, a memory without blot or contamination must be an exquisite treasure-an inexhaustible source of pure refreshment:is it not?

We seldom know what we’re hearing when we hear something for the first time, but one thing is certain: we hear as we will never hear it again. We return to the moment to experience...

I can’t say why some memories float and other sink.

My theme is memory, that winged host that soared about me one grey morning of war-time.These memories, which are my life–for we possess nothing certainly except the past–were always with me. Like the pigeons of...

We were still young enough to remember the cubist architecture of the piles of corpses we had seen during the war.

It was one of those strange moments that came to him rarely, but never left. A moment that stamped itself on heart and brain, instantly recallable in every detail, for all of his life. There...

Tomorrow is a memory best forgotten.

Write it down. Not just to remember it, but to forget it in the right way. My notebook are a kind of materialized subconscious, a hard-copy memory and its invisible substrata, following their own rules....

Nostalgia tells it like it wasn’t.

…when pain is over, the remembrance of it often becomes a pleasure.

Since childhood, I was afflicted with a sick hypersensitivity, and my imagination quickly turned everything into a memory, too quickly: sometimes one day was enough, or an interval of a few hours, or a routine...

Memory for most is a kind of afterlife; for my mother, it is another form of life.

The spring came suddenly; the rains stopped, the days grew noticeably longer, and the afternoon light felt powdery, as if it might blow away.

I wondered if there would ever be a day when I didn’t think about Alaska, wondered whether I should hope for a time when she would be a distant memory – recalled only on the...

I’m in the back of a limousine with Charlie Chaplin and it’s 1928. Charlie is beautiful; his body language seems to skip, and reel and rhyme, heartbreaking and witty at the same time. It seems...

How unfortunate is the guy who does not live in the extravagant memory of an infatuated young woman.

No memory is ever alone; it’s at the end of a trail of memories, a dozen trails that each have their own associations.

You can lose your way groping among the shadows of the past. It’s frightening how many people and things there are in a man’s past that have stopped moving. The living people we’ve lost in...

That was the danger. Not that betrayals happened, not that cruel things happened, but that they could outweigh all the good. That we could forget the good and only remember the bad.

What is living? Forging memories. What is dying? Forgetting them.I never die.

We humans are different–our brains are built not to fix memories in stone but rather to transform them. Our recollections change in their retelling.

Music evokes emotion and emotion can bring it’s memory.

Ladies and gentlemen, when you paint your lips, eyes, nails, hair, side-beards, or whatever, to look beautiful or handsome, don’t forget your up stairs, if you don’t go up there to put things in order,...

My survival was up to me. I had nothing and I had no one. What I did have, I told myself, was my mind, my imagination, my memory, my feelings, my spirit. These were important...

I remembered that, and, remembering that, I remembered everything.