#memory

Entre más recordamos, más cerca estamos de la muerte. ↗

— Rafael Pérez Gay

#memory #philosophy #life

They, like me, like all of us, had, once upon a time, in a past so far away it seemed like heaven, caught by chance a glimpse of an inner essence, only to forget what it was. It was this lost memory that pained us, reduced us to ruins, though still we struggled to be ourselves. ↗

— Orhan Pamuk

#memory #life

Memory is a way of holding on to the things you love, the things you are, the things you never want to lost ↗

— Kevin Arnold

#love #memory #love

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 ↗

— Malorie Blackman

#similarities #song-writing #love

Will I see you at all?” He shook his head. But he couldn’t yet make himself move away. He was unwilling to relinquish his hold on her, unwilling to say that final good-bye. He held her for a minute, then two, then three, simply holding her and committing to memory what he could not have in life. There was a sweet, comforting scent to her. His memory was very, very good, but she was better. He only loosened his grip when he feared he might not be able to let go of her at all. ↗

— Courtney Milan - Unraveled

#life

The future reshapes the memory of the past in the way it recalibrates significance: some episodes are advanced, others lose purchase. ↗

— Gregory Maguire

#memory #mind #mind-games #men

Your childhood," said Yackle coaxingly, as if she could smell his thoughts. As if she could sniff out those passages he hadn't chosen to retail at drink parties. Her words lulled him. The past, even a bitter past, is usually more pungent than the present, or at least better organized in the mind. ↗

— Gregory Maguire

#history #memories #memory #past #thoughts

...the very old men [...] believing that they had danced with her and courted her perhaps, confusing time with its mathematical progression, as the old do, to whom all the past is not a diminishing road but, instead, a huge meadow which no winter ever quite touches, divided from them now by the narrow bottle-neck of the most recent decade of years. ↗

— William Faulkner

#past #time #men

He had a clear, lyrical voice and his songs remained in her ears long after the music had ended. ↗

— Hiroko Sherwin

#music #voice #music

The music of memory has its own pitch,/which not everyone hears. ↗

— Charles Wright

#music