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But the thing about remembering is that you don't forget.
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remembering
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Tim O'Brien |
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When you start thinking about what your life was like 10 years ago--and not in general terms, but in highly specific detail--it's disturbing to realize how certain elements of your being are completely dead. They die long before you do. It's astonishing to consider all the things from your past that used to happen all the time but (a) never happen anymore, and (b) never even cross your mind. It's almost like those things didn't happen. Or maybe it seems like they just happened to someone else. To someone you don't really know. To someone you just hung out with for one night, and now you can't even remember her name.
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living
regret
remembering
nostalgia
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Chuck Klosterman |
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"Remember that you own what happened to you. If your childhood was less than ideal, you may have been raised thinking that if you told the truth about what really went on in your family, a long bony white finger would emerge from a cloud and point to you, while a chilling voice thundered, "We *told* you not to tell." But that was then. Just put down on paper everything you can remember now about your parents and siblings and relatives and neighbors, and we will deal with libel later on."
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memories
writing
advice
getting-started
memoir
remembering
childhood
incest
memory
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Anne Lamott |
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Then one morning she'd begun to feel her sorrow easing, like something jagged that had cut into her so long it had finally dulled its edges, worn itself down. That same day Rachel couldn't remember which side her father had parted his hair on, and she'd realized again what she'd learned at five when her mother left - that what made losing someone you loved bearable was not remembering but forgetting. Forgetting the small things first, the smell of the soap her mother had bathed with, the color of the dress she'd worn to church, then after a while the sound of her mother's voice, the color of her hair. It amazed Rachel how much you could forget, and everything you forgot made that person less alive inside you until you could finally endure it. After more time passed you could let yourself remember, even want to remember. But even then what you felt those first days could return and remind you the grief that was still there, like old barbed wire embedded in a tree's heartwood. (51)
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grief
sorrow
endure
forgetting
remembering
memory
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Ron Rash |
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There are edges around the black and every now and then a flash of color streaks out of the gray. But I can never really grasp any of the slivers of memories that emerge.
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memories
sadness
traumatic
remember
memory-loss
remembering
ptsd
trauma
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Katie McGarry |
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Memory was a curse, yes, he thought, but it was also the greatest gift. Because if you lost memory you lost everything.
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blood-and-gold
vampire-chronicles
thorne
curse
gift
remembering
memory
vampires
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Anne Rice |
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The whole world can't lick us but we can lick ourselves by longing too hard for things we haven't got any more - and by remembering too much.
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world
lick
remembering
longing
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Margaret Mitchell |
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When my husband died, people kept telling me not to cry. People kept trying to help me to forget. But I didn't want to forget... So I realize, that if it's hard for me, how much harder it must be for you.
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memories
inspirational-life
remembering
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Katherine Paterson |
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Sitting on the floor, I'd replay the past in my head. Funny, that's all I did, day after day after day for half a year, and I never tired of it. What I'd been through seemed so vast, with so many facets. Vast, but real, very real, which was why the experience persisted in towering before me, like a monument lit up at night. And the thing was, it was a monument to me.
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memories
past
real
surreal
remembering
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Haruki Murakami |
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You know that the things you put it your head stay there, right?' 'Yeah. But you remember some things, don't you?' 'Yeah. You remember the things you want to forget and forget the things you want to remember.
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cormac-mccarthy
remembering
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Cormac McCarthy |
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Max. God, but she was stubborn. And tough. And closed in. Closed off. Except when she was holding Angel, or ruffling the Gasman's hair, or pushing something closer to Iggy's hand so he could find it easily without knowing anyone had helped him. Or when she was trying to untangle Nudge's mane of hair. Or-sometimes-when she was looking at Fang. He shifted on the hard ground, a half-dozen flashes of memory cycling through his brain. Max looking at him and laughing. Max leaping off a cliff, snapping out her wings, flying off, so incredibly powerful and graceful that it took his breath away. Max punching someone's lights out, her face like stone. Max kissing that weiner Sam on Anne's front porch. Gritting his teeth, Fang rolled onto his side. Max kissing him on the beach, after Ari had kicked Fang's butt. Just now, her mouth soft under his. He wished she were here, if not next to him, then somewhere in the cave, so he could hear her breathing. It was going to be hard to sleep without that tonight.
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jealousy
love
needing
otpotptoptop-i-just-can-t
wings-and-flying
fang
friendship-and-love
max
missing
otp
need
remembering
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James Patterson |
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There are moments when we have real fun because, just for the moment, we don't think about things and then--we remember--and the remembering is worse than thinking of it all the time would have been.
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remembering
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L.M. Montgomery |
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Did you ever look back at some moment in your past and have it suddenly grow so vivid that all the intervening years seemed brief, dreamlike, impersonal--the motions of a May afternoon surrendered to routine?
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past
years
remembering
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Roger Zelazny |
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I had turned away from the picture and was going back to the world where events move, men change, light flickers, life flows in a clear stream, no matter whether over mud or over stones.
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moving-on
hope
final-departure
last-goodbye
last-sight
lost-friends
picture-metaphor
life-goes-on
moving-on-and-letting-go
getting-over-it
leaving
remembering
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Joseph Conrad |
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I wondered if there would ever be a day when I didn't think about Alaska, wondered whether I should hope for a time when she would be a distant memory - recalled only on the anniversary of her death, or maybe a couple of weeks after, remembering only after having forgotten.
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forgotten
remembering
memory
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John Green |
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She smiles, and her eyes look as if they can see back into her memory, into all the things that have gone into making a person what they are.
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memories
past
melancholy
oblivion
remembering
memory
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Lois Lowry |
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How will I be remembered by my children? This is the true measure of a man.
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remembering
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Brian Herbert |
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It is very strange to think back like this, although come to think of it, there is no fence or hedge round Time that has gone. You can go back and have what you like if you remember it well enough.
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time
memoryes
remember
remembering
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Richard Llewellyn |
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I've had enough of these streets that sweat a cold, yellow slime, of hostile people, of crying myself to sleep every night. I've had enough of thinking, enough of remembering.
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sleep
people
hostile
slime
streets
sweat
enough
cry
crying
thinking
remembering
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Jean Rhys |
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How much time could you spend staring out the ocean, even if it was the ocean you'd loved since you were a boy?
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ocean
remembering
childhood
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Philip Roth |
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Remembering the past always comes with an image or a view attached.
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remembering
memory
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Orhan Pamuk |
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The mind plays tricks. It rejects things until it thinks -- or something tells it -- that the remembering can be handled.
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reject
trick
remembering
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Robert Ludlum |
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Where is the happiness, the sunshine, where are those thick skittles of wood which crashed and bounced so nicely, where is my bicycle with the low handlebars and the big gear? It seems there's a law which says that nothing ever vanishes, that matter is indestructible; therefore the chips from my skittles and the spokes of my bicycle still exist somewhere to this day. The pity of it is that I'll never find them again - never.
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nostalgic
growing-up
melancholy
remembering
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Vladimir Nabokov |
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"He stood with his two frail hands on his cane and his eyes closed, and breathed in deeply the scent of the past. "Sometimes," he sighed, "I think the things I remember are more real than the things I see."
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remembering
reminiscence
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Arthur Golden |
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She felt something similar, but worse in a way, about hundreds and hundreds of books she'd read, novels, biographies, occasional books, about music and art--she could remember nothing about them at all, so that it seemed rather pointless even to say that she had read them; such claims were things people set great store by but she hardly supposed they recalled any more than she did. Sometimes a book persisted as a coloured shadow at the edge of sight, as vague and unrecapturable as something seen in the rain from a passing vehicle; looked at directly it vanished altogether. Sometimes there were atmospheres, even the rudiments of a scene; a man in an office looking over Regent's Park, rain in the street outside--a little blurred etching of a situation she would never, could never, trace back to its source in a novel she had read some time, she thought, in the past thirty years.
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books
what-s-the-name-of-that-book
remembering
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Alan Hollinghurst |
9209423
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There was something brittle about her, and he feared she would snap apart at the slightest touch; she had thrown herself so fiercely into this, the erasing of memory, that it would destroy her.
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remembering
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Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie |
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This surprised me because it made me realize that what I sought was not outside myself. It was within me, already there, waiting. Awakening was really the act of remembering myself, remembering this deep Feminine Source.
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feminine-source
remembering
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Sue Monk Kidd |
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How embarrassing that she ever did something that silly. But, good God, she was seventeen. At that age, we're mostly high-pitched and crazy. All urgent chemicals raging around the blood course. And that's why we do dangerous and embarrassing things, as if simultaneously we're immortal and going to die tomorrow. And that's why we look back on that time so fondly from the dimmer years to come. Remembering the days when we were like Greek gods. Mighty and idiotic.
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teenagers
teens
remembering
reminiscence
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Charles Frazier |
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He could swear he did not look back, could not--by any optical chance, or in any prism--have seen her physically as he walked away; and yet, with dreadful distinction, he retained forever a composite picture of her standing where he left her. The picture--which penetrated him, through an eye in the back of his head, through his vitreous spinal canal, and could never be lived down, never--consisted of a selection and blend of such random images and expressions of hers that had affected him with a pang of intolerable remorse at various moments in the past.
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remembering
memory
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Vladimir Nabokov |
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I suppose if we forgot stuff we'll never know we forgot it, because we won't remember
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memories
remember
remembering
|
Pete Hautman |
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Recollection could be more powerful and more perilous than experience itself.
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remembering
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Mark Helprin |
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It's always better if they see. Then they don't imagine things. So I didn't imagine, I remembered.
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remembering
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Diana Gabaldon |
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Die Freunde, an die ich denke, sind in der Zeit gefangen wie in einem Film. Sie (viele von ihnen sind tot, verschollen) sind in dem Alter, in dem ich sie zuletzt gesehen habe; ich bezweifle, dass sie mich jetzt wiedererkennen wurden.
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friends
past
inspirational
vergangenheit
remembering
memory
|
Alberto Manguel |