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Read through the most famous quotes by topic #memory
At times I feel as if I had lived all this before and that I have already written these very words, but I know it was not I: it was another woman, who kept her notebooks so that one day I could use them. I write, she wrote, that memory is fragile and the space of a single life is brief, passing so quickly that we never get a chance to see the relationship between events; we cannot gauge the consequences of our acts, and we believe in the fiction of past, present, and future, but it may also be true that everything happens simultaneously. ... That's why my Grandmother Clara wrote in her notebooks, in order to see things in their true dimension and to defy her own poor memory. ↗
#memory #perception #space #time #words
Often, as she leafed through the sticky, plastic-coated pages, spotting herself with a frizzy perm or wearing a loud, printed blouse, she was struck by how long life was, and how much time had passed, and she wished she could go back and apologize to those closest to her, explain that she understood now. Impossible, and yet the urge to return and be a different person never lessened, grew only more acute. ↗
#life
That's what memory is like: layers, one overlapping another, and compacting down the way old leaves slowly crumble and turn to a rich peaty soil, nourishing the new things that will grow. It's why it's important, remembering things. It's why it matters, when the memories aren't there, and no one fills in the gaps for you. ↗
You remind me of a boy I used to know Same Smile, same easy, laid-back style And man, could he kiss Blew my mind the very first time His lips touched mine. You remind me You remind me of a boy I used to like. Same eyes, strong arms, same open mind And man, could he dance Arms around me, lost in a trance I'd hear his heart You remind me I'm scared of you How did you find me? Turn and walk away 'Cause you remind me You remind me of a boy I used to love Same laughter and tears, shared through the years And man, how he felt Made my bones more than melt He touched my soul. You remind me I'm scared of you How did you find me? Turn and walk away 'Cause you remind me ↗
আমাদের সেই কথোপকথন, সেই বাক্যালাপগুলি গ্রন্থিত করলে পৃথিবীর একটি শ্রেষ্ঠ প্রেমের কবিতা হতে পারতো; হয়তো আজ তার কিছুই মনে নেই আমার মনে সেই বাক্যালাপগুলি নিরন্তর শিশির হয়ে ঝরে পড়ে, মৌমাছি হয়ে গুনগুন করে স্বর্ণচাঁপা আর গোলাপ হয়ে ঝরতে থাকে; সেই ফুলের গন্ধে, সেই মৌমাছির গুঞ্জনে আর কোকিলের গানে আমি সারারাত ঘুমাতে পারি না, নিঃশ্বাস ফেলতে পারি না ↗
He knew all the stories. His grandfather had given them to him when he sat between the old man’s knees as a child. It was a comfort, though, to hear them again. To call them to mind. All these stories that made him more than just a vintner and more than just a man who carried a spear whom other men were willing to follow. More than just a man who lay dying. The stories made him one of the People, who would never die. ↗
