Falling in love is a subtle process, a connection sparked by attraction, tested by compatibility, and forged by memory.
But William Stoner knew of the world in a way that few of his younger colleagues could understand. Deep in him, beneath his memory, was the knowledge of hardship and hunger and endurance and pain.
In his memory there was a great tendency to downplay or completely forget their unlovable characteristics. [...] The thoughts that came wanted to be wholly good.
We spend our lives in the attempt to capture memory forever; to capture moments; to capture Time itself.
When a marriage fails, the story of the relationship changes. The best parts, the parts that made you think getting married was a good idea, fade from memory.
And then, gradually, the memory of her would fade away, I had forgotten the girl of my dream.
He wanted to regain his memory, but not if it cost him Victoria. He would give up everything for her.
What are memories but photo images from the mind? Isn't the human mind so much like a camera, saving pictures every now and then?
New Orleans is not in the grip of a neurosis of a denied past; it passes out memories generously like a great lord; it doesn't have to pursue "the real thing.
The point, I decided, wasn't to have the autobiography or even the memories. The point was who I became when I wrote.
Aygi Cycle (4) Coarse hawthorn beloved uncle's memory entwined among its gnarled and armored limbs copy of Lolita by his deathbed
You are speaking...as if the pleasure were one thing and the memory another. It is all one thing... what you call remembering is the last part of the pleasure.
I have come to think that's where Heaven is, a place in the memories of other where our best selves live
...I stir in bed and the memories rise out of me like a buzz of flies from a carcass. I crave to be rid of them...
That evening When I was all alone In our bedroom To give me company Your voice came along
It was hard when I knew I was about to be flooded with memories of a life I hadn't lived yet. Really, two lives I hadn't lived yet.
One of my friends at the Compound has a photographic memory. Everything she ever sees, reads, or hears, she remembers forever in perfect detail.
Memory and Habit are attributes of the Time cancer. They control the most simple Proustian episode, and an understanding of their mechanism must precede any particular analysis of their application.
The universe requires balance. Nothing, nothing, can exist without it. There is no life, no light, without death, without darkness. There is no memory… without emptiness.
Memory is an illusion, nothing more. It is a fire that needs constant tending.
Memories are dangerous things. You turn them over and over, until you know every touch and corner, but still you'll find an edge to cut you.
