Memories Quotes - Page 57

Memory cannot exist without endurance of the things perceived, and the thing perceived cannot remain where it has never been.

Memories are like stones, time and distance erode them like acid.

Unlike memory, which confirms and reinforces itself, history contributes to the disenchantment of the world.

Surviving is the strongest memory I have; the sense of having walked on water.

She said I bet you dont remember me And I said only every other memory.

I start crying when certain things come up, certain memories, certain feelings, and it's intense. But I think it's good for me - and therapeutic.

Never throughout history has a man who lived a life of ease left a name worth remembering.

Rincewind tried to force the memory out of his mind, but it was rather enjoying itself there, terrorizing the other occupants and kicking over the furniture.

My fondest memories were watching the Beastie Boys get prepped to come on stage. They had a lot of antics and they play a lot of basketball... then they were giving out cameras to the crowd, and performing from the bleachers. The most important thing I learned was that you control your crowd, not the other way around.

There is no witness so terrible, no accuser so powerful as conscience which dwells within us.

Necessity is the mother of invention. I love solving things like that. Because there wasn't enough memory, thinking of an economical way to make the movements look right was like solving a puzzle, and I had a lot of fun.

It is one thing to remember, another to know. To remember is to safeguard something entrusted to the memory. But to know is to make each thing one's own, not depend on the text and always to look back to the teacher. "Zeno said this, Cleanthes said this." Let there be space between you and the book.

I've seen attack ships on fire on the shoulder of Orion, I've seen moon beams glisten at the Ten hauser gate, all those memories, lost like tears in the rain.

The museums and parks are graveyards above the ground- congealed memories of the past that act as a pretext for reality.

Thus is our treaty written; thus is agreement made. Thought is the arrow of time; memory never fades. What was asked is given; the price is paid.

In the happiest of our childhood memories, our parents were happy, too.

Commemorative stone in the floor of the Chapel of St. George in Westminster Abbey, London, dedicated in 1947: TO THE MEMORY OF ROBERT Baden-Powell CHIEF SCOUT OF THE WORLD 1857-1941 Upon one side of the stone was the badge of the Boy Scouts, the arrow-head to point the true way as it had pointed the way for sailors and navigators from the time of the earliest maps; and on the other the badge of the Girl Guides-the three-leafed clover.

If all music did was bring the past alive, that would be fine. You can hide away in music and let it recapture memories of things that used to be. But music is greedy and it wants more of your heart than that. It demands the future, your future. Music wants the rest of your life. So you can't rest easy. At any moment, a song can come out of nowhere to shake you up, jump-start your emotions, ruin your life.

Old friends are memories personified.

There is no fence or hedge round time that has gone. You can go back and have what you like if you remember it well enough.

Sense of place is the sixth sense, an internal compass and map made by memory and spatial perception together.

Who are you, reader, reading my poems an hundred years hence? I cannot send you one single flower from this wealth of the spring, one single streak of gold from yonder clouds. Open your doors and look abroad. From your blossoming garden gather fragrant memories of the vanished flowers of an hundred years before. In the joy of your heart may you feel the living joy that sang one spring morning, sending its glad voice across a hundred years.

The erection of a monument is superfluous, our memory will endure if our lives have deserved it.

Memories of the past are not memories of facts but memories of your imaginings of the facts.

There is no class of people in the world, who have such good memories as creditors.