For the record, he can tell you he actually has no memory of the accident whatsoever.

Thank God for the potholes on memory lane.

My brain tends to take the scenic route. Things come to the forefront of my mind sooner or later, it just takes time.

At the time I could no more believe my eyes than I can now trust my memory.

Sometimes we are written down in books. Or, someone tells a story in which our name figures. And so we live on, through someone else’s voice…These are the indelible marks others make of us, like...

Memory offers up its gifts only when jogged by something in the present. It isn’t a storehouse of fixed images and words, but a dynamic associative network in the brain that is never quiet and...

Memory is not an instrument for surveying the past but its theater. It is the medium of past experience, just as the earth is the medium in which dead cities lie buried. He who seeks...

White Americans have a short memory.

If I had to choose a moment in time when I knew my life would be different going forward—when I knew I would be different—this would be it.

…but Marcel in the novel does not merely remember what happened to him when he was younger and lived the life of a dilettante, in most cases he invents, he speculates, imagines makes up stories...

Amidst the chaos of the cities, a part of you always yearns for the silence of the woods.

Try to capture what you can’t bear to be without

Not marble, nor the gilded monuments Of princes, shall outlive this powerful rhyme;But you shall shine more bright in these contents Than unswept stone, besmear’d with sluttish time. When wasteful war shall statues overturn, And...

The garnets,’ Sniff moaned. ‘I didn’t get a single one.’ Snufkin sat down beside him and said kindly: ‘I know. But that’s how it is when you start wanting to have things. Now I just...

I do not want to recollect. I should be afraid of preventing the future and of allowing the past to encroach on me. It is out of the utter forgetfulness of yesterday that I create...

He was already fading. I knew that it wouldn’t be long until he was just a vague image, however much I tried to cling onto his memory.

Die Freunde, an die ich denke, sind in der Zeit gefangen wie in einem Film. Sie (viele von ihnen sind tot, verschollen) sind in dem Alter, in dem ich sie zuletzt gesehen habe; ich bezweifle,...

That’s just the way it is. I’ll always remember. She’s forgotten.

Don’t let the day go by without a handful of fun, for only those we’ll be memorable and even intensified through time

After all, Bao Bomu says, what is the past but what we choose to remember?

We are the only species on the planet, so far as we know, to have invented a communal memory stored neither in our genes nor in our brains. The warehouse of this memory is called...

I think about my mother singing after lunch on a Summer afternoon, twirling in blue dress across the floor of her dressing room

Part of the function of memory is to forget; the omni-retentive mind will break down and produce at best an idiot savant who can recite a telephone book, and at worst a person to whom...

The point, I decided, wasn’t to have the autobiography or even the memories. The point was who I became when I wrote.

{Letter from Debbs to Eva Ingersoll, husband of , just after the news of death}We were inexpressibly shocked to hear of the sudden death of your dear husband and our best loved friend. Most tenderly...

He who travels much has this advantage over others – that the things he remembers soon become remote, so that in a short time they acquire the vague and poetical quality which is only given...

I know for a fact that no matter where I go, the memory and the suffering of not being with you will cripple me. I will go to work, fire up my PC, only to...

Cato said the best way to keep good acts in memory was to refresh them with new.

My mind, I know, I can prove, hovers on hummingbird wings. It hovers and it churns. And when it’s operating at full thrust, the churning does not stop. The machines do not rest, the systems...

It felt like being a child again, though it was not. Being a child is like nothing. It’s only being. Later, when we think about it, we make it into youth.

The faces you clutch at desperately slip away; it’s when you’re not thinking about them that their features flash past. It can happen on a street corner, at the turn of a staircase, because somebody...

Thus, the “memories” that people reported contained little information about the event they were trying to recall (the speaker’s tone of voice) but were greatly influenced by the properties of the retrieval cue that we...

It is warm, I am alive, I am calm and sad, I hardly know why. In this existence so even, so tranquil, and so gentle as I have here, I am in an element that...

Here and there, there are some people who are supremely endowed, … My memory goes back to Jim Thorpe. He never practiced in his life, and he could do anything better than any other football...

What makes and experience a memory is when we share with someone, the emotions we felt

Here’s to many more firsts and many more great memories.

The green of these mountains in my lungs smelled like an old friend, one who wouldn’t tell lies to you. One who understood. One who knew pain didn’t go away just because you wanted it...

Memory weaves and traps us at the same time according to a scheme in which we do not participate: we should never speak of our memory, for it is anything but ours; it works on...

You always know more than you think you know without being aware of it. You always remember best what has hurt most.Memory is a reflex of the pain. Knowledge is the memory of the pain...

…first, in order to remember, something must be forgotten; second, the place where memories are stored has no boundaries. In other words, forgetting is a twin; its tandem effect is best called “simultancous” distraction, the...

I’d trade all my tomorrows for one single yesterday.

We take gingko to sharpen our memories. We could be memorizing song lyrics instead.

Well, a man’s mind can’t stay in time the way his body does.

En yakınımda oturan, arada sırada ateş istemek için küçük maşasıyla nargilenin camını tıklatan yaşlı adama yanaştım ve lafa girdim. Arkadaşlarımın Avrupalı olduklarını, şehrimizin eski hikayelerini merak ettiklerini, şehrimizin eski hikayelerini merak ettiklerini, eğer lütfedip anlatırlarsa...

Memory, instead of being a duplicate, always present before one’s eyes, of the various events of one’s life, is rather a void from which at odd moments a chance resemblance enables ones to resuscitate dead...

This is the worst of our ways of remembering–this tendency to prod the crust of anecdote in the hope of releasing a gush of piping-hot symbolism.

To my father, who told me the stories that matter. To my mother, who taught me to remember them.

The clarity was startling and Samson wondered whether he was imagining these moments. Not that they hadn’t happened at all, but that they had been embellished by details from elsewhere, fragments that survived the obliteration...

They, like me, like all of us, had, once upon a time, in a past so far away it seemed like heaven, caught by chance a glimpse of an inner essence, only to forget what...

In my terms, I settled for the realities of life, and submitted to its necessities: if this, then that, and so the years passed. In Adrian’s terms, I gave up on life, gave up on...