Memories Quotes
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I have short-term memory loss. I know that some of the memories of the Super Bowl championships are fading.
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I cannot believe that 'Pinocchio' is over yet, and I always think about so many great memories that I made while playing in the drama.
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Human memory, they say, is like a coat closet: The most enduring outcome of a formal education is that it creates rows of coat hooks so that later on, when you come upon a new piece of information, you have a hook to hang it on. Without a hook, the new information falls on the floor.
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I've been in the business since I was 16, so I've had a 14-year career. I've always had acting in my blood. Doing this, whatever it is, was something I was drawn to since my earliest memories. Ironically, I lived in Hollywood, but never understood that all it took was getting an agent and being persistent.
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No sadness is greater than in misery to rehearse memories of joy.
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I've always loved history, from my youngest memories. My father enjoyed the great stories of history, like Hereward the Wake, Robin Hood, and Richard the Lionheart, and he shared them with me. I went on to do a degree in history, though I found it rather dry, because it was mostly about politics rather than dashing individuals!
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I construct my memories with my present. I am lost, abandoned in the present. I try in vain to rejoin the past: I cannot escape.
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Everybody remembers 'Just Shoot Me,' and I'm very proud of that. It's still on TV, and people still catch it and laugh about it, and I personally have wonderful, wonderful memories working with those people.
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I was raised in a Catholic family, spent twelve years in parochial schools, and had extremely fond memories of my interactions with Catholic clergy.
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His name was Michael R. Ross. I've never known what the "R" was for. He died, however, before I was 7. But he and I seemed to have had quite a nice relationship. He always called me grandlady, and he'd always talk to you as a person rather than as a child. So, I would go with him for his routes in his horse and buggy. So, my memory of him is pretty sharp, plus it has been accentuated by the stories that come out of the family.
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I often remember in this false, distorted way, and the memories are often cloaked in the colour of the sun. Sometimes I feel nostalgia for things I knew I hated when they were happening, for days spent at the beach or the swimming pool with my sisters.
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The less one remembers about the day before, the more the new day will be unfettered by triviality.
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Our minds and memories are crowded with the common experience of nature.
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One of my earliest memories is walking up a muddy road into the mountains. It was raining. Behind me, my village was burning. When there was school, it was under a tree. Then the United Nations came. They fed me, my family, my community.
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The wheat field has ...poetry; it is like a memory of something one has once seen. We can only make our pictures speak.
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We die to each other daily. What we know of other people is only our memory of the moments during which we knew them. And they have changed since then. To pretend that they and we are the same is a useful and convenient social convention which must sometimes be broken. We must also remember that at every meeting we are meeting a stranger.
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This Olympics is almost a little sad. It is my final Olympics. There are a lot of good memories.
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I have always loved jazz music and as a teen growing up in New York City and then later on as an adult have great memories of the jazz clubs that were all located on 52nd Street. I still catch as many jazz shows as I can when I am in New York. And when I perform, I have my jazz quartet by my side. Jazz musicians keep things spontaneous and very "live," which is the way I like to perform.
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There were people in Cuba who truly had substantial things to gain from revolution. There were people who had things to lose in the revolution. I think they're all allowed to have their memories of what happened.
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All that we were has led us to where we are, but tells us little of where we’re going. Memories are a weight you can never shrug off.
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My favorite memories were with my dad, throwing a football around when he came home from work. As long as kids are having fun, that's the biggest deal at the end of the day.
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Oh yes, as a matter of fact it is quite interesting that exercises can be conducted which demonstrate conclusively that there are memories which exist prior to this life.
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Doubting what you see is a very odd experience. And doubting what you remember is a little less odd than doubting what you see. But it's also a pretty odd experience, because some memories come with a very compelling sense of truth about them, and that happens to be the case even for memories that are not true.
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We can best honor the memories of those who were killed on September 11 and those who have been killed fighting the war on terrorism, by dedicating ourselves to building a free and peaceful world safe from the threat of terrorism.
