Memories Quotes - Page 213

The dead are visible only in the terrible lidless eye of memory.

Someday no one will remember that she ever existed, I wrote in my notebook, and then, or that I did. Because memories fall apart, too. And then you're left with nothing, left not even with a ghost but with its shadow. In the beginning, she had haunted me, haunted my dreams, but even now, just weeks later, she was slipping away, falling apart in my memory and everyone else's, dying again.

My head was level with hers as we stared at each other from opposite sides of the glass. I don't remember how it ended - if I went to bed or she did. In my memory, it doesn't end. We just stay there, looking at each other, forever.

Nostalgia is inevitably a yearning for a past that never existed and when I'm writing, there are no bees to sting me out of my sentimentality. For me at least, fiction is the only way I can even begin to twist my lying memories into something true.

memories fall apart too.

Memory heaps dead leaves on corpse-like deeds, from under which they do but vaguely offend the sense.

He knew the world and its absurdities as only an intelligent Irishman can; which is to say that where his knowledge or memory failed him, his imagination was always ready to fill the gap.

The battle was over. Our casualties were some thirteen thousand killed--thirteen thousand minds, memories, loves, sensations, worlds, universes--because the human mind is more a universe than the universe itself--and all for a few hundred yards of useless mud.

And so it is that I carry with me from this State to that high and lonely office to which I now succeed more than fond memories and fast friendships. The enduring qualities of Massachusetts - the common threads woven by the Pilgrim and the Puritan, the fisherman and the farmer, the Yankee and the immigrant - will not be and could not be forgotten in the Nations Executive Mansion. They are an indelible part of my life, my convictions, my view of the past, my hopes for the future.

We had a dog who was named Pushinka, who was given to my father by a Soviet official. And we trained that dog to slide down the slide we had in the back of the White House. Sliding the dog down that slide is probably my first memory.

If you train yourself in memory work, you fearlessly attack and rearrange your material, for you can retain your original impression.

It's easier to write about a place sometimes when you've left it, when you can apply your imagination to your memory and let your emotions guide the writing about a place.

Love is anticipation and memory, uncertainty and longing. It’s unreasonable, of course. Nothing begins with so much excitement and hope and pleasure as love, except maybe writing a story. And nothing fails as often, except writing stories. And like a story, love must be troubled to be interesting.

I am reading Jonson's verses to the memory of Shakespeare; an insolent, sparing, and invidious panegyric.

Old noted oak! I saw thee in a mood Of vague indifference; and yet with me Thy memory, like thy fate, hath lingering stood For years, thou hermit, in the lonely sea Of grass that waves around thee!

I can't wait to get my memory back. It sounds like I am a really cool person

I grew up in the home of a pastor, and my earliest memory is that God really had a plan for my life and that I was special - this is really weird - but I felt that.

I hope for so much from every book I read. And time and again, I find myself disappointed. I look across my bookshelves and see hundreds of titles which in my memory seem merely mediocre or second-rate. Only occasionally does a novel appear for which I feel a lasting passion, a book that I think could in time become a classic.

When you lose interest in anything, you also lose the memory for it.

That memory of making the record is a huge part of the record itself.

I care about the records I make and I love writing songs and some songs are really dear to me and they mean something. But the memory of making the records and the activities surrounding the records, the people involved in them is actually a bigger thing to me.

Every place where I played or managed is special to me because of the memories and the friendships that each afforded me.

Only our memories allow that some people ever existed. That they mattered, or mattered too much.

My previous visits to Australia created fantastic memories, so I'm definitely looking forward to another visit. It is one of the most beautiful places I've ever been. I think every person in the entire country is nice. Seriously, I haven't seen or heard of a mean person yet. And they love country music.

My earliest memories are of my father explaining to me the American Dream and how he expected me to do better than he did.