Memories Quotes - Page 195

Your center of mass is a place you cannot visit but you always carry with you. Like memories, it is part of life's baggage.

Also, where does your identity come from? Your memory, of course.

It can be said, then, that Everlost is heaven...for the places that deserve a share of forever. Such places are few and far between...The greatest of these stood near Manhattan's southern-most tip: the two gray brothers to the green statue in the bay. The towers had found their heaven...held fast, and held forever by the memories of a mourning world, and by the dignity of the souls who got where they were going on that dark September day.

When, as President Joseph F. Smith said, we "catch a spark from the awakened memories of the immortal soul, "let us be quietly grateful. When of great truths we can say "I know," that powerful spiritual witness may also carry with it the sense of our having known before. With rediscovery, we are really saying "I know - again!"

In a 'wheat and tares' world, how unusually blessed faithful members are to have the precious and constant gift of the Holy Ghost with reminders of what is right and of the covenants we have made. 'For behold, ... the Holy Ghost ... will show unto you all things what ye should do.' (2 Ne. 32:5.) Whatever the decibels of decadence, these need not overwhelm the still, small voice! Some of the best sermons we will ever hear will be thus prompted from the pulpit of memory—to an audience of one!

Voters' memories will fade some.

Everything is in our cellular level. My mom's is definitely in my cellular memory.

Pure memory isn't based on recall but rather involuntary memory that's in your body and your nerves.

By calling it a memoir, I meant is as a collection of memories. I thought it was (a more) artful (title) than documentary.

I don't remember my childhood very well at all, but my earliest memory is holding a man's hand as I was walking down the street at about 1ВЅ. I can still remember the shoes I was wearing, but I don't know who the man was or what the memory relates to.

I consider myself British and have very happy memories of the UK. I spent the first 14 years of my life in England and never wanted to leave. When I was in Australia I went back to England a lot.

We forget, we have a short memory and we're human. This morning my Scripture was Isaiah 26:3, which said, Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on Thee for he trusteth in Thee.

Our memories make us... even the darkest of them all.

I don’t want to lose my memories. Don’t make me forget. I would rather die as Elena, than live as a shadow.

I have so many great friends, so many great memories, so many great pictures, so many great songs, so many great relationships with people. I definitely feel, for the last 15 years, that I spent my time very wisely. And that's a great thing to be able to look back at.

Although my grandmother lived out her long life in the shadow of Rainy Mountian, the immense landscape of the continental interior lay like memory in her blood

A good forgettery is a happier possession than a good memory.

I knew I would hate my best memory because it would prove that people could fake love or that love could end or worst of all, love was not powerful enough to change a life.

Quantum physics says that there is an infinite number of possibilities and parallels to the one that we know, and every event is also played out in a parallel world. It's kind of a crazy idea, but someone called Saibal Mitra at the University of Amsterdam says that if you could back up your memory in case of a catastrophic event, you could actually revert to that back-up and find an alternative world in which the Earth didn't explode or collide with Mars.

One of the things people often say about America is that it's a such a young country, relatively, and its problem - Europeans say this - is that they have no memory. I don't agree with this. In the Balkans, the problem is that we cannot forget. The problem is we have great memory.

My earliest memory is aged three, seeing sunlight on water and feeling it was really magical.

Who am I, then, if my memory is impaired?

I'm inspired heavily by film influences - David Lynch's Blue Velvet, Federico Fellini, Alfred Hitchcock, Pedro Almodóvar, and what I see in the cinema - so there is a linking, an interweaving between memory, cinema and contemporary life, which the women in my pictures encapsulate.

I understood that there was no escaping the memories, that I was surround by them. (p.30)

In Irena’s head the alcohol plays a double role: it frees her fantasy, encourages her boldness, makes her sensual, and at the same time it dims her memory. She makes love wildly, lasciviously, and at the same time the curtain of oblivion wraps her lewdness in an all-concealing darkness. As if a poet were writing his greatest poem with ink that instantly disappears.