It's a poor sort of memory that only works backwards,' says the White Queen to Alice.
Lewis CarrollTag: memory alice-in-wonderland carroll
I'd trade all my tomorrows for one single yesterday.
Kris KristoffersonTag: nostalgia memory song-lyrics
If one wishes to be instructed--not that anyone does--concerning the treacherous role that memory plays in a human life, consider how relentlessly the water of memory refuses to break, how it impedes that journey into the air of time. Time: the whisper beneath that word is death. With this unanswerable weight hanging heavier and heavier over one's head, the vision becomes cloudy, nothing is what it seems...
How then, can I trust my memory concerning that particular Sunday afternoon?...Beneath the face of anyone you ever loved for true--anyone you love, you will always love, love is not at the mercy of time and it does not recognize death, they are strangers to each other--beneath the face of the beloved, however ancient, ruined, and scarred, is the face of the baby your love once was, and will always be, for you. Love serves, then, if memory doesn't, and passion, apart from its tense relation to agony, labors beneath the shadow of death. Passion is terrifying, it can rock you, change you, bring your head under, as when a wind rises from the bottom of the sea, and you're out there in the craft of your mortality, alone.
You can give without loving, but you cannot love without giving.
Amy CarmichaelReiko had not kept a diary and was now denied the pleasure of assiduously rereading her record of the happiness of the past few months and consigning each page to the fire as she did so.
- Death in Midsummer and Other Stories
Tag: memory
No word matters. But man forgets reality and remembers words.
Roger ZelaznyTag: words reality buddhism history humanity story memory narrative semiotics truthful
There either is or is not, that’s the way things are. The colour of the day. The way it felt to be a child. The saltwater on your sunburnt legs. Sometimes the water is yellow, sometimes it’s red. But what colour it may be in memory, depends on the day. I’m not going to tell you the story the way it happened. I’m going to tell it the way I remember it.
— Great Expectations (1998) directed by Alfonso Cuarón
Tag: reality storytelling memory cinema
Of course he wasn't dead. He could never be dead until she herself had finished feeling and thinking. The kiss of his memory made pictures of love and light against the wall. Here was peace. She pulled in her horizon like a great fish-net. Pulled it from around the waist of the world and draped it over her shoulder. So much of life in its meshes! She called in her soul to come and see.
Zora Neale HurstonTag: peace loss death mourning memory grief remembrance grieving
Every man's memory is his private literature.
Aldous HuxleyTag: literature memory
A good snapshot keeps a moment from running away.
Eudora WeltyTag: photography memory
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