Always carry a notebook. And I mean always. The short-term memory only retains information for three minutes; unless it is committed to paper you can lose an idea for ever.
Will SelfTags: writing memory ideas journals notebook
The unreality of the past weeks lifted like a fog, but its residue remained. All of the past is like that, but most especially the parts that are out of the ordinary.
Madeline Claire FranklinTags: life time fantasy memory the-poppet-and-the-lune
I see again my schoolroom in Vyra, the blue roses of the wallpaper, the open window.… Everything is as it should be, nothing will ever change, nobody will ever die.
Vladimir NabokovHow we keep these dead souls in our hearts. Each one of us carries within himself his necropolis.
Gustave FlaubertIn her final years she would still recall the trip that, with the perverse lucidity of nostalgia, became more and more recent in her memory.
Gabriel García MárquezTags: nostalgia memory recollection
Sometimes I wanted to take a memory - one perfect memory - curl up in it, and go to sleep.
Kiersten WhiteTags: memory
But nothing happened there now of a nature to provoke a disturbance. There were no complaints to the management or the police, and the dark glory of the upper galleries was a legend in such memories as that of the late Emiel Kroger and the present Pablo Gonzales, and one by one, of course, those memories died out and the legend died out with them. Places like the Joy Rio and the legends about them make one more than usually aware of the short bloom and the long fading out of things. ("The Mysteries of the Joy Rio")
Tennessee WilliamsTags: past memory aging-well legends
Tags: past memory remembrance ageing
Un recuerdo evocado demasiado a menudo y expresado en forma de historia tiende a convertirse en un estereotipo... cristalizado, perfeccionado, adornado, instalándose en sí mismo en lugar de la memoria pura y dura, y creciendo a sus expensas.
Primo LeviTags: history memory historia memoria
While Dmitri, as the leader of Raphael’s Seven, could not accept such a weakness, the mortal he’d once been, the one who had loved a woman with a wide mouth and eyes of slanted brown . . . that man understood what it was to love so deeply it was a kind of beautiful madness.
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