If you remember your past too well you start blaming your present for it. Look what they did to me, that’s what caused me to be like this, it’s not my fault. Permit me to...

The memory of the pain did not destroy the reality of the pleasure; grief did not obliterate joy.

Memory has its own special kind. It selects, eliminates, alters, exaggerates, minimizes, glorifies, and vilifies also; but in the end it creates its own reality, its heterogeneous but usually coherent version of events; and no...

Memory is the only afterlife I have ever believed in. But the forgetting inside us cannot be stopped. We are programmed to betray.

Nothing stays forgotten for long, Elly. Sometimes we simply have to remind the world that we’re still here.

Reality is not a function of the event as event, but of the relationship of that event to past, and future, events.

I wanted a life of adventure. I wanted to travel. I wanted to work my way up to being Somebody. I wanted to leave a mark on the Earth and be remembered.

Only people have been through that miserable time will recall the pass from their deep memory.

The true art of memory, is the art of attention

Now, women forget all the things they don’t want to remember, and remember everything they don’t want to forget. The dream is the truth. Then they act and do things accordingly.

Start with a blank surface. It doesn’t have to be paper or canvas, but I feel it should be white. We call it white because we need a word, but its true name is nothing....

You have to make your own condensed notes. You learn from MAKING them. A lot of thinking goes into deciding what to include and exclude. You develop your own system of abbreviations and memory methods...

It was nearly ten years since the peace though her memories of the war still felt fresh.

Nothing revives the past so completely as a smell that was once associated with it.

Katniss. I remember about the bread.

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

Hold childhood in reverence, and do not be in any hurry to judge it for good or ill. Leave exceptional cases to show themselves, let their qualities be tested and confirmed, before special methods are...

You don’t have to hold onto the pain to hold onto the memory.

I have a shocking memory – I remember everything.

Over the last few millennial, we’ve invented a series of technologies … that have made it progressively easier and easier for us to externalize our memories, for us to outsource this fundamental human capacity.

We must forget in order to remain present, forget in order not to die, forget in order to remain faithful.

In order to rise from its own ashes, a Phoenix first must burn.

Strange infatuation seems to grace the evening tide. I want you to be free, but it is your sorrow that has made a slave of me… I wish to know how to keep you… You...

I saw [Linus Pauling] as a brilliant lecturer and a man with a fantastic memory, and a great, great showman. I think he was the century’s greatest chemist. No doubt about it.

And like an aviator who rolls painfully along the ground until, abruptly, he breaks away from it, I felt myself being slowly lifted towards the silent peaks of memory.

Any time gone by was better.

I am remembering it now.

Sometimes I wanted to take a memory – one perfect memory – curl up in it, and go to sleep.

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.