Remembering the past always comes with an image or a view attached.
Orhan PamukTag: memory remembering images
I have more than once tried to analyse this apparently deliberate form of self-torture that seems common to so many people in face of the extinction of a valued life, human or animal, and it springs, I think, from a negation of death, as if by summoning and arranging these subjective images one were in some way cheating the objective fact. It is, I believe, an entirely instinctive process, and the distress it brings with it is an incidental, a by-product, rather than a masochistic end.
Gavin MaxwellTag: death mourning memory grief
l'oubli dont je commençais à sentir la force et qui est un si puissant instrument d'adaptation à la réalité parce qu'il détruit peu à peu le passé survivant qui est en constante contradiction avec elle.
Marcel ProustTag: memory
Little girl, a memory without blot or contamination must be an exquisite treasure-an inexhaustible source of pure refreshment:is it not?
Charlotte BrontëThat was seven years ago. The doctors told her father the memory would fade, like the big messy scar on her arm, but neither ever did.
Holly BlackTag: dark paranormal-romance memory scars monstrous holly-black tana-bach the-coldest-girl-in-coldtown tana-s-mother faded-memory
The arrow of time obscures memory of both past and future circumstance with innumerable fallacies, the least trivial of which is perception.
Ashim ShankerTag: perception time memory absurdism metafiction past-and-future arrow illusion-of-self fallacies astrophysics space-time
Of what use was memory anyway than as a template for one's most reassuring self-deceptions!
Ashim ShankerTag: self-deception memory rationalization self-betrayal idealization-of-the-past illusion-of-memory template
It takes a day to fall in love and a lifetime to forget.
Chris NicolaisenChildren are not like us. They are beings apart: impenetrable, unapproachable. They inhabit not our world but a world we have lost and can never recover. We do not remember childhood -- we imagine it. We search for it, in vain, through layers of obscuring dust, and recover some bedraggled shreds of what we think it was. And all the while the inhabitants of this world are among us, like aborigines, like Minoans, people from elsewhere safe in their own time-capsule.
Penelope LivelyTag: childhood memory adulthood chilldren
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