Memory Quotes
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There were opium-dens, where one could buy oblivion, dens of horror where the memory of old sins could be destroyed by the madness of sins that were new.
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The gods have been good to you. But what the gods give they quickly take away. You have only a few years in which to live really, perfectly, and fully. When your youth goes, your beauty will go with it, and then you will suddenly discover that there are no triumphs left for you, or have to content yourself with those mean triumphs that the memory of your past will make more bitter than defeats. Every month as it wanes bring you nearer to something dreadful. Time is jealous of you, and wars against your lilies and your roses.
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One very clear memory I have of college is that I never learned anything in the big lectures. I have a feeling I'd have done even worse if they'd been on a laptop screen.
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We owe it to his memory and the memory of so many other people who have been killed in the Lebanon, lost all their livelihoods, to ensure there is a democratic Lebanon and one which is fully sovereign within its borders.
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I think that we are already making steps toward mapping out the brain so we can identify the chemical patterns that create and store memory.
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We know that if memory is destroyed in one part of the brain, it can be sometimes re-created on a different part of the brain. And once we can unravel that amino chain of chemicals that is responsible for memory, I see no reason why we can't unlock it and, essentially, wipe out what's there.
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Places seem to me to have some kind of memory, in that they activate memory in those who look at them.
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Every word she says makes me feel a little more like faking a stroke and pretending to lose all memory of who I was.
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Good bye may seem forever. Farewell is like the end, but in my heart is the memory and there you will always be.
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Part of us believes the new car is better because it lasts longer. But, in fact, that's the worst thing about the new car. It will stay around to disappoint you, whereas a trip to Europe is over. It evaporates. It has the good sense to go away, and you are left with nothing but a wonderful memory.
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In that book which is my memory, On the first page of the chapter that is the day when I first met you, Appear the words, ‘Here begins a new life’.
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Duration is the transformation of a succession into a reversion. In other words: THE BECOMING OF A MEMORY.
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I said last week, we've gotta take care of the ball, especially in the first game. Once we lost the lead, we were chasing after that. When something bad happened, we dwelled on that. Not everybody. When that happens, we have to have a short memory and move on.
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I think there's a part of my brain where food, language, and memory all intersect, and it's really powerful. I think I'm not alone in this.
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A man's memory is bound to be a distortion of his past in accordance with his present interests, and the most faithful autobiography is likely to mirror less what a man was than what he has become.
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If a man needs an elaborate tombstone in order to remain in the memory of his country, it is clear that his living at all was an act of absolute superfluity.
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To use the image of Che Guevara to sell vodka is a slur on his name and memory. He never drank himself, he was not a drunk, and drink should not be associated with his immortal memory... As a supporter of the ideals for which Che Guevara died, I am not averse to its reproduction by those who wish to propagate his memory and the cause of social justice throughout the world.
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Some of 'em [virtues] like extinct volcanoes, with a strong memory or fire and brimstone.
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I come from a place where breath, eyes, and memory are one, a place from which you carry your past like a hair on your head. Where women return to their children as butterflies or as tears in the eyes of the statues that their daughters pray to
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Inspiration could be called inhaling the memory of an act never experienced.
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Memory believes before knowing remembers. Believes longer than recollects, longer than knowing even wonders.
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No memory of having starred atones for later disregard, or keeps the end from being hard.
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One day I was at the park with my family, all my cousins and stuff, in Frankston... We were all just singing a song and my aunty was like 'oh guys, she can actually hold a note.' I think that's the earliest memory of someone actually pointing me out as someone that has an ability to sing. I was probably like 7 years old.
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The snag in being married to a person who knows more or less everything is that one gets hopelessly lazy. ... I never look things up in books because all I need to do is ask him, and when he gives me the answers I don't properly commit them to memory because I know if I forget all I have to do is to ask him again. It is rather like keeping one's brain in a suitcase.
