#memory

What is it like to wear another person’s skin?” “I don’t have a good answer for that,” I said. “It hurts.” “Can you remember their stories? Can you feel the love that they felt? ↗

— Andrew Davidson

#memory #pain #skin #love

An imperfectly remembered life is a useless treachery. Every day, more fragments of the past roll around heavily in the chambers of an empty brain, shedding bits of color, a sentence or a fragrance, something that changes and then disappears. It drops like a stone to the bottom of the cave. ↗

— Barbara Kingsolver

#change

Those places where sadness and misery abound are favoured settings for stories of ghosts and apparitions. Calcutta has countless such stories hidden in its darkness, stories that nobody wants to admit they believe but which nevertheless survive in the memory of generations as the only chronicle of the past. It is as if the people who inhabit the streets, inspired by some mysterious wisdom, relalise that the true history of Calcutta has always been written in the invisible tales of its spirits and unspoken curses. ↗

— Carlos Ruiz Zafón

#calcutta #chronicle-of-the-past #darkness #generations #ghosts

An act of kindness may take only a moment of our time, but when captured in the heart the memory lives forever. ↗

— Molly Friedenfeld

#forever-love #heart #inspiration #inspirational-quotes #joy

The things that your eyes see plainly and cant forget are worse than huddled black figures left to the imagination. ↗

— Kendare Blake

#memory #see #imagination

Imagination has a poor memory, it slinks away and gets blurry. Eyes remember much longer. ↗

— Kendare Blake

#imagination

Remember tonight... for it is the beginning of always ↗

— Dante Alighieri

#inspirational #memory #inspirational

Ture stories can't be told forward, only backward. We invent them from the vantage point of an ever-changing present and tell ourselves how they unfolded. ↗

— Siri Hustvedt

#present #story #storytelling #change

Every man's memory is his private literature. ↗

— Aldous Huxley

#his #literature #man #memory #private

What happens is that your wretched memory remembers the words and forgets what's behind them. ↗

— Augusto Roa Bastos

#forgets #happens #memory #remembers #them