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She had lost all our memories for ever, and it was as though by dying she had robbed me of part of myself. I was losing my individuality. It was the first stage of my own death, the memories dropping off like gangrened limbs.

Graham Greene

Tag: death memory

What needs my Shakespeare for his honoured bones,
The labor of an age in pilèd stones,
Or that his hallowed relics should be hid
Under a star-y-pointing pyramid?
Dear son of memory, great heir of fame,
What need'st thou such weak witness of thy name?

John Milton

Tag: poetry shakespeare fame memory labor william-shakespeare bones honour hallowed heir pyramid relics

Harold Hill: You pile up enough tomorrows, and you'll find you are left with nothing but a lot of empty yesterdays. I don't know about you, but I'd like to make today worth remembering.

Meredith Willson

Tag: memory

Identity is memory; when memory disappears, the self dissolves and love with it.

John Lahr

Tag: love identity memory

The advantage of a bad memory is that one enjoys several times the same good things for the first time.

Friedrich Nietzsche

Tag: happiness memory forgetfulness forgetting

The pen will never be able to move fast enough to write down every word discovered in the space of memory. Some things have been lost forever, other things will perhaps be remembered again, and still other things have been lost and found and lost again. There is no way to be sure of any this.

Paul Auster

Tag: writing memory

God gave us memory so that we might have roses in December.

J.M. Barrie

Tag: memory

The time is ripe for looking back over the day, the week, the year, and trying to figure out where we have come from and where we are going to, for sifting through the things we have done and the things we have left undone for a clue to who we are and who, for better or worse, we are becoming. But again and again we avoid the long thoughts….We cling to the present out of wariness of the past. And why not, after all? We get confused. We need such escape as we can find. But there is a deeper need yet, I think, and that is the need—not all the time, surely, but from time to time—to enter that still room within us all where the past lives on as a part of the present, where the dead are alive again, where we are most alive ourselves to turnings and to where our journeys have brought us. The name of the room is Remember—the room where with patience, with charity, with quietness of heart, we remember consciously to remember the lives we have lived.

Frederick Buechner

Tag: memory remembrance remembering

I think it is all a matter of love; the more you love a memory the stronger and stranger it becomes

Vladimir Nabokov

Tag: love infatuation memory recollection remembrance