remember

People usually will remember people most, for the stupid things they did, than the impressionable ones. This somehow strangely, makes them feel better.

That's just the way it is. I'll always remember. She's forgotten.

He'd kept his figure despite being past his first youth. Pretty good for nearly forty.Who was she fooling? She knew quite well that he was thirty-five and a half, exactly five years older than she. Their birthdays were two days apart. It was absurd the way trivial facts lingered in the memory, facts as unimportant as what she had for dinner on Tuesday. Except that she couldn't remember last week's menu and she was annoyingly aware of Max Quinton's preference for lamb over beef, for apple tart over syllabub. He preferred Shakespeare to the modern poets, the country to the town.

The past, which as always did not know the future, acted in ways that ask tobe imagined before they are condemned. Or even simplified.

The feelings that still linger, decade after decade, aren__ just the residue of a love lost. They are as real as the first day I told her I loved her." ~Corbin Jones, Voice of Innocence

Some people would never forget certain people, a few people would remember everyone, and most of us would mostly be forgotten.

If you don't write it down, it never happened.Cathy (& Jack) Ryan

The more she tried to forget, the more she remembered.

A forest fire was making its way along the tinderbox ridges above them, flaring and shimmering against the overcast like the northern lights. Cold as it was he stood there a long time. The color of it moved something in him long forgotten. Make a list. Recite a litany. Remember.

We are what we remember. If we lose our memory, we lose our identity and our identity is the accumulation of our experiences. When we walk down the memory lane, it can be unconsciously, willingly, selectively, impetuously or sometimes grudgingly. By following our stream of consciousness we look for lost time and things past. Some reminiscences become anchor points that can take another scope with the wisdom of hindsight. ("Walking down the memory lane" )

And I try to remember if this happened before, because this is a memory I would want to keep.But there is no echo of it in my mind.

In the serenity and quiet of this lovely place, touch the depths of truth, feel the hem of Heaven. And when you leave, don't forget why you came...

If you knew you were going to lose your memorybut you could choose five things you__ never forget, what would they be__ certain face, a taste, a scent,a touch; how deepin this, the middle of your life?

When I look at myself in the mirror, I wonder where everything has gone. Even the things I used to remember with so much clarity now seem dimmer. What happens to memory when it vanishes? What happens to events when everyone who remembers them ceases to remember?

You broke the chain, Luna. Of all his victims, you were the only one that ever walked away and he hasn__ forgotten.

Something weird moved through me, a feeling of familiarity, and as I stood in front of my locker, I found myself thinking of the one bright thing in a past full of shadows and darkness.I thought about the boy who made my chest hurt, the one who__ promised forever.It had been four years since I__ seen him or even heard him speak. Four years of trying to erase everything that had to do with that portion of my childhood, but I remembered him. I wondered about him.How could I not? I always would.He had been the sole reason I survived the house we__ grown up in.

Maybe that's who you are, what you remember.

This is not a lie: Memory has the taste and texture of cooked meat. Eat it and live. Remember, but only what it is licit to remember.In Aerograd, the word for meat and memory are the same.