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Memory Quotes

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Memory Quotes

“Naked. Fatigue of the body transparent as a glass-tree. Near yourself you hear the brutal rumor of inextricable desire. Night blindly mine. You're farther gone than me. Horror of checking for you in the screams of my poem. Your name is the disease of things at midnight. They had promised me one silence. Your face is closer to me than my own. Phantom memory. How I'd love to kill you —”

InspirationPoetryPoemSadMemoryRevengeMuseAlejandra PizarnikThe Galloping HourMy Favorite Poem
Book:The Galloping Hour: French Poems
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“Her face was wet with tears. A foreigner in the world of the emotions, ignorant of their language but compelled to listen to it, I turned into the street. With every step I marvelled more at the extent of Marian's self-deception. Why then was I moved by what she had said? Why did I half wish that I could see it all as she did? And why should I go on this preposterous errand? I hadn't promised to and I wasn't a child, to be ordered about. My car was standing by the public call-box; nothing easier than to ring up Ted's grandson and make my excuses. . . . But I didn't, and hardly had I turned in at the lodge gates, wondering how I should say what I had come to say, when the south-west prospect of the Hall, long hidden from my memory, sprang into view.”

SadEmotionsMemoryEndingLast LinesRepressed MemoryL P HartleyThe Go Between
Book:The go-between
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“Come, I'll take you to San Giacomo before you change your mind,' I finally said. 'There is still time before lunch. Remember the way?' 'I remember the way.' 'You remember the way,' I echoed. He looked at me and smiled. It cheered me. Perhaps because I knew he was taunting me. Twenty years was yesterday, and yesterday was just earlier this morning, and morning seemed light-years away. 'I'm like you,' he said. 'I remember everything.' I stopped for a second. If you remember everything, I wanted to say, and if you are really like me, then before you leave tomorrow, or when you're just ready to shut the door of the taxi and have already said goodbye to everyone else and there's not a thing left to say in this life, then, just this once, turn to me, even in jest, or as an afterthought, which would have meant everything to me when we were together, and, as you did back then, look me in the face, hold my gaze, and call me by your name.”

SadMemoryRemembranceEndingCall Me By Your NameAndre AcimanOliver And ElioEchoing
Book:Call Me by Your Name
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“All these years, whenever I thought of him, I'd think either of B. or of our last days in Rome, the whole thing leading up to two scenes: the balcony with its attendant agonies and via Santa Maria dell' Anima, where he'd pushed me against the old wall and kissed me and in the end let me put one leg around his. Every time I go back to Rome, I go back to that one spot. It is still alive for me, still resounds with something totally present, as though a heart stolen from a tale by Poe still throbbed under the ancient slate pavement to remind me that, here, I had finally encountered the life that was right for me but had failed to have.”

RegretSadMemoryKissLost LoveCall Me By Your NameAndre AcimanWhat Might Have Been
Book:Call Me by Your Name
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“It tugs at me, filling me with the kind of seasick nostalgia that can hit you in the gut when you find an old concert ticket in your purse or an old coin machine ring you got down at the boardwalk on a day when you went searching for mermaids in the surf with your best friend. That punch of nostalgia hits me now and I start to sink down on the sky-coloured quilt, feeling the nubby fabric under my fingers, familiar as the topography of my hand.”

LoveLifePlayFriendshipLossSkyChildhoodRegretSadLaughterGuiltMemoryNostalgiaBest FriendSurfMermaidHomesickHandRingFingerQuiltConcertTicketSeasickCoin MachineKodak Moment
Book:Placid Girl
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“Your mother, she used to be adventurous then, and... so *alive*. She was just about the liveliest, happiest person I'd ever met." He smiled at the memory. "She had this laugh. I swear it's why I married her, Laila, for that laugh. It bull-dozed you. You stood no chance against it." A wave of affection overcame Laila. From then on, she would always remember Babi this way: reminiscing about Mammy, with his elbows on the rock, hands cupping his chin, his hair ruffled by the wind, eyes crinkled against the sun.”

MemoryAffectionReminiscence
Book:A Thousand Splendid Suns
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“Not the slow Hearse, where nod the sable plumes, The Parian Statue, bending o'er the Urn, The dark robe floating, the dejection worn On the dropt eye, and lip no smile illumes; Not all this pomp of sorrow, that presumes It pays Affection's debt, is due concern To the FOR EVER ABSENT, tho' it mourn Fashion's allotted time. If Time consumes, While Life is ours, the precious vestal-flame Memory shou'd hourly feed;—if, thro' each day, She with whate'er we see, hear, think, or say, Blend not the image of the vanish'd Frame, O! can the alien Heart expect to prove, In worlds of light and life, a reunited love!”

LoveDeathMemoryDeath Of A Loved OneRemembranceRemembering Loved Ones
Book:Original sonnets on various subjects; and odes paraphrased from Horace
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“100 Questions of Life 6. What is perfection? Perfection is imperfections we've made peace with. ... 13. What is nature? Nature is order within chaos. 14. What is order? Order is but friendship with chaos. 15. What is chaos? Chaos is order we are yet to understand. ... 21. What is knowledge? Knowledge is ignorance we've chosen to correct. 22. What is choice? Choice is the fulcrum of freedom. 23. What is freedom? Freedom is the fulcrum of responsibility. 24. What is responsibility? Responsibility is the act of backbone. 25. What is backbone? Backbone is more than a stick to hang your head. 26. What is the head? Head is the mightiest carrier of progress. 27. What is progress? Progress is much more than mere functioning of nuts and bolts. 28. What are nuts and bolts? Nuts and bolts are our greatest defense against unforeseen terrors of nature, on earth and beyond. ... 53. What is heritage? Heritage, in moderation, is an aid to growth, unmoderated, poison. ... 57. What is death? Death is but the fear of life. 58. What is fear? Fear is but memory of our animal past. 59. What is memory? Memory is the fabric of time. 60. What is time? Time is the meaning behind moments. ... 78. What is curiosity? Curiosity is a challenge to superstition. 79. What is superstition? Superstition is nature's antidote to the insecurity of the unknown. 80. What is insecurity? Insecurity is wisdom of the jungle against possible predatory attack. 81. What is wisdom? Wisdom is the result of travel in mind, not in time or space.”

Life LessonsFreedomKnowledgePsychologyProgressMemoryExistentialismInsecuritySuperstitionMental Health Awareness
Book:Rowdy Scientist: Handbook of Humanitarian Science
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“Stored personal memories along with handed down collective memories of stories, legends, and history allows us to collate our interactions with a physical and social world and develop a personal code of survival. In essence, we all become self-styled sages, creating our own book of wisdom based upon our studied observations and practical knowledge gleaned from living and learning. What we quickly discover is that no textbook exist how to conduct our life, because the world has yet to produce a perfect person – an ideal observer – whom is capable of handing down a concrete exemplar of epistemic virtues. We each draw upon the guiding knowledge, theories, and advice available for us in order to explore the paradoxes, ironies, inconsistencies, and the absurdities encountered while living in a supernatural world. We mold our personal collection of information into a practical practicum how to live and die. Each day we define and redefine who we are, determine how we will react today, and chart our quest into an uncertain future.”

StoriesWisdomTruthLife LessonsMemoriesHistoryIdentityWisdom QuotesSelf AwarenessHistoricalMemorySelf RealizationStorytellingLegacyUncertaintyPhilosophy Of LifeLife Lessons QuotesMeaning Of LifeExistentialismPurpose Of LifeLegendsSelf DeterminationTruth Of LifeSelf KnowledgeSelf DevelopmentMeaningful LifePurpose Driven LifePurposeful LivingKnow ThyselfSelf IdentityMemories QuotesLegacy QuotesSelf KnowingPersonal HistoryMeaningfulnessPurposefulSage AdviceExistential AngstMemory QuotesHistorical NovelUncertainties In LifeCode Of ConductSagesPersonal Observation
Book:Dead Toad Scrolls
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“He felt lighter than he had in weeks, and he realized that the monster he had been running from wasn’t really a monster after all. It was simply that place in the heart that holds the measure of your history, the joy and the grief, the laughter and the tears, the magic and the wonder; all the ingredients that add up to the story of a life well lived.”

LoveLossGriefFamilyMemoryConnection
Book:The Wonder of Ordinary Magic
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“Take care of yourselves and look after me, till healing through poetry.”

GriefHealingFamilyMemoryAfterlifeRemembrancePoetry As Prayer
Book:SONG FOR YOU / CÂNTEC PENTRU TINE (Bilingual English–Romanian Edition / Ediție bilingvă engleză–română / 2025): Poems of Love, Madness & Resurrection / ... nebunie și renaștere
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“در ماه سپتامبر آن سال،وقتی که با پرسشنامه به خانه برگشتم، پدر عصبی بود.شغل پدر؟ مادر جرئت نکرد پرسشنامه را پر کند. پدرم سرم قر زد:- راستش را بنویس :(( مامور مخفی)) قال قضیه کنده می شود. من اینها را آدم حساب نمی کنم. نگاهش کردم. همیشه از خودم می پرسیدم که چه چیز ناجوری در زندگیمان وجود دارد. هیچ کس به خانه مان نمی آمد، هیچ وقت. پدر قدغن کرده بود. هر گاه کسی زنگ را می زد، دستش را بلند می کرد تا ما را به سکوت وادارد. منتظر می ماند تا آن که پشت در بود، منصرف شود و به صدای پایش در راه پله ها گوش می داد. پس از آن کنار پنجره می رفت، پشت پرده پنهان می شد و پیروزمندانه او را که داشت از کوچه مان دور می شد، نگاه می کرد. هیچ یک از دوستانم اجازه نداشتند که از در خانه مان تو بیایند. و هیچ یک از همکاران مادر. همیشه تنها ما سه تا در آپارتمان بودیم. حتی پدربزرگ و مادربزرگم به آنجا نیامدند.”

FamilyMemoryTraumaResilienceFrench Literatureادبیات فرانسهآسیب روحیحافظهخانوادهمقاومت
Book:Profession du père
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“Odaan sighed, a slow, breathy huff that sent shivers down Ari’s spine. She could feel it all, the pain and the memory and the deep, aching loss that would never, ever be filled. And she felt a twinge of something else too – jealousy that he had been just a bit older, had just a few more years to learn his parents in a way she would never learn hers. Would her memories be crisper now, if she had been eight, ten, twelve when they left her? Would she still see her father’s face and hear her mother’s voice? She couldn’t bring herself to ask him.”

LoveWarFriendshipFamilyFantasyMemoryTraumaGrief And Loss
Book:A Vision in Smoke
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