Memory Quotes - Page 9

Don't let the day go by without a handful of fun, for only those we'll be memorable and even intensified through time

...I need to return briefly to a few incidents that have grown into anecdotes, to some approximate memories which time has deformed into certainty.

At the heart of memory, is the stillness of time.

I av seen so much of this world but being happy with you was my favourite memory and if somebody asks me what I will choose in the other world .. I will simply answer 'You'.

With her enchanting songs, her rare beauty, and clever tricks, this wild 'wanderess' ensnared my soul like a gypsy-thief, and led me foolish and blind to where you find me now. The first time I saw her, fires were alight. It was a spicy night in Barcelona. The air was fragrant and free.

But then comes a time when forgetting isn't possible. And I do mean a particular time when no amount of dreaming, not then and maybe not ever, can change how naked and unimportant we become in our own eyes.

...no moment cares, and the ones you wish could stretch out like a hammock for you to lie in, well, those moments leave the quickest and take everything good with them, little burglars, those moments, those hours, those days you loved the most.

I am hopelessly in love with a memory.
An echo from another time, another place.

Time passes by, memory stays
Torturing silently, rest of our days... Sigh!

I wished, more than anything, to forget. But what I had, more than anything, was time to remember.

One must always maintain one’s connection to the past and yet ceaselessly pull away from it. To remain in touch with the past requires a love of memory. To remain in touch with the past requires a constant imaginative effort.

If I had to choose a moment in time when I knew my life would be different going forward - when I knew I would be different - this would be it.

There is no loss, if you cannot remember what you have lost.

we are unable to discount the hypotheses that the world began three years ago.

She has a memory of trees and fields and nothing more.

The concept of Time is but the span of our memory.

The last moments slipped by, one by one, irretrievable.

When the battery in my watch died, I still wore it. There was something about the watch that said: It doesn’t matter what time it is. Think in months. Years. Someone loves you. Where are you going? There are some things you will never do. It doesn’t matter. There is no rush. Be the best prisoner you can be.

Coming back is the thing that enables you to see how all the dots in your life are connected, how one decision leads you another, how one twist of fate, good or bad, brings you to a door that later takes you to another door, which aided by several detours-long hallways and unforeseen stairwells-eventually puts you in the place you are now.

How unfortunate is the guy who does not live in the extravagant memory of an infatuated young woman.