Memory Trigger Quotes

No sooner had the warm liquid mixed with the crumbs touched my palate than a shudder ran through me and I stopped, intent upon the extraordinary thing that was happening to me. An exquisite pleasure had invaded my senses, something isolated, detached, with no suggestion of its origin. And at once the vicissitudes of life had become indifferent to me, its disasters innocuous, its brevity illusory – this new sensation having had on me the effect which love has of filling me with a precious essence; or rather this essence was not in me it was me. ... Whence did it come? What did it mean? How could I seize and apprehend it? ... And suddenly the memory revealed itself. The taste was that of the little piece of madeleine which on Sunday mornings at Combray (because on those mornings I did not go out before mass), when I went to say good morning to her in her bedroom, my aunt Léonie used to give me, dipping it first in her own cup of tea or tisane. The sight of the little madeleine had recalled nothing to my mind before I tasted it. And all from my cup of tea. ~ Marcel Proust

And we exhaust ourselves with this playful joust, we look at each other, silently, eye to eye, no smiles, nothing more to be said. All at one, we both leap, like wolf mates reunited, searching for that which identifies us as belonging to each other: the scent of our skin, the taste of our tongues, the smoothness of our hair, the saltiness of our necks, the ridges of our spines, the slopes and creases we know so well yet feel so new. He is tender and I am wild, nuzzling and nipping, both of us tumbling until we lose all memory of who we are before this moment, because at his moment we are the same. ~ Amy Tan

The path that he followed being fixed for ever in his memory by the general excitement due to being in a strange place, to doing unusual things, ~ Marcel Proust

The idea that water has a memory can be refuted by any one of several easily understood, invalid, arguments. ~ Brian Josephson

In our family histories, the frontier between fact and fiction is vague, especially in the record of events that took place before we were born, or when we were too young to record them accurately; there are few maps to these remote regions, and only the occasional sign to guide the explorer. ~ Adam Sisman

Memory is a mental stabilizer and without it the mind becomes chaotic and unstructured, allowing 1999 and 1940 to merge. ~ Thomas DeBaggio

You always have the memory of the bottom, and fear of the bottom. And when you start going to the bottom you panic. ~ Milton Resnick

I've been accused many times of not talking very much, but I guess I don't believe in talking things to death. You can talk too much on most anything and it stops being productive. There is a time for action. Eventually you have to pull the trigger. ~ Edward Whitacre, Jr.

Would he be haunted, as she knew she would be, by the memory of the love they'd once clung to, yet tented to so recklessly, and abandoned so carelessly? ~ Joy Fielding

We sat within the farm-house old,
Whose windows, looking o'er the bay,
Gave to the sea-breeze damp and cold,
An easy entrance, night and day.

Not far away we saw the port,
The strange, old-fashioned, silent town,
The lighthouse, the dismantled fort,
The wooden houses, quaint and brown.

We sat and talked until the night,
Descending, filled the little room;
Our faces faded from the sight,
Our voices only broke the gloom.

We spake of many a vanished scene,
Of what we once had thought and said,
And who was changed, and who was dead;

And all that fills the hearts of friends,
When first they feel, with secret pain,
Their lives thenceforth have separate ends,
And never can be one again;

The first slight swerving of the heart,
That words are powerless to express,
And leave it still unsaid in part,
Or say it in too great excess.

The very tones in why we spake,
Had something strange, I could but mark;
The leaves of memory seemed to make
A mournful rattling in the dark.

Oft died the words upon our lips,
As suddenly, from out the fire
Built of the wreck of stranded ships,
The flames would leap and then expire.

And, as their splendor flashed and failed,
We thought of wrecks upon the main,
Of ships dismasted, that were hailed
And sent no answer back again.

The w ~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

The streets of Prague were a fantasia scarcely touched by the twenty-first century - or the twentieth or nineteenth, for that matter. It was a city of alchemists and dreamers, its medieval cobbles once trod by golems, mystics, invading armies. Tall houses glowed goldenrod and carmine and eggshell blue, embellished with Rococo plasterwork and capped in roofs of uniform red. Baroque cupolas were the soft green of antique copper, and Gothic steeples stood ready to impale fallen angels. The wind carried the memory of magic, revolution, violins, and the cobbled lanes meandered like creeks. Thugs wore Motzart wigs and pushed chamber music on street corners, and marionettes hung in windows, making the whole city seem like a theater with unseen puppeteers crouched behind velvet. ~ Laini Taylor

The common people have no history: persecuted by the present, they cannot think of preserving the memory of the past. ~ Jean-Henri Fabre

Our capacity to move forward as developing beings rests on a healthy relationship with the past. Psychotherapy, that widespread method for promoting mental health, relies heavily on memory and on the ability to retrieve and organize images and events from the personal pastIf we learn not only to tell our stories but to listen to what our stories tell us - to write the first draft and then return for the second draft - we are doing the work of memory. ~ Patricia Hampl

If we say that monsters [people who do terrible evil] are beyond forgiving, we give them a power they should never have ... they are given the power to keep their evil alive in the hearts of those who suffered most. We give them power to condemn their victims to live forever with the hurting memory of their painful pasts. We give the monsters the last word. ~ Lewis B. Smedes

In general, we imagine rivers to be subject to a kind of dynamic equilibrium, largely stable geologic features, with processes like regional incision or subtle shifts in mountain building causing short- and medium-term variation around some slowly changing mean condition, but in fact it is far more common to see dramatic change over short periods, with long periods of stability between in what geologists refer to as 'dynamic metastable equilibrium.'
It is the same with families, memory, the history of a person's life, what we believe to be true. ~ Katharine Haake

What would the future of man be if it were devoid of memory? ~ Elie Wiesel

Live in this world as a traveller, and leave behind you every sweet memory. Indeed we are guests here, and every guest must soon leave. ~ Hazrat Ali R.A

One of the constants in life is that results are always being produced. If you don't consciously decide what results you want to produce and represent things accordingly, then some external trigger-a conversation, a TV show, whatever-may create states that create behaviors that do not support you. Life is like a river. It's moving, and you can be at the mercy of the river if you don't take deliberate, conscious action to steer yourself in a direction you have predetermined. If you don't plant the mental and physiological seeds of the results you want, weeds will grow automatically. If we don't consciously direct our own minds and states, our environment may produce undesirable haphazard states. The results can be disastrous. Thus it's critical that-on a daily basis-we stand guard at the door of our mind, that we know how we are consistently representing things to ourselves. We must daily weed our garden. ~ Anthony Robbins

Like the apple bruising Kafka's beetle, each of these pellets of recollection lodged in Moose's flesh, releasing its cargo of memories of all the things he had lost - "Not lost! Gained!" Moose thundered aloud, but now, mercifully, that debate (lost or gained?) was supplanted in his mind by the proximity of Belmont Harbor and the yacht club. Yes, this was the place; Moose eased the station wagon into a parking space, desperate to free himself of its chassis, whose sole purpose, it now seemed, was to hold him still so that these bullets of memory could assault him, enter his flesh and release their shrapnel of foolish and unreliable nostalgia. ~ Jennifer Egan

Always remember those things that tend to strengthen and improve your understanding. You cannot learn without attention, neither retain those lessons that you have once learnt without frequently reflecting upon and reviewing them in your mind; by this means, things long past will remain impressed upon your memory. ~ Dorothea Dix

Perhaps she's in love with the last memory she has of you. ~ Andrea Boeshaar

These are the moments that make the dot-to-dot pictures of our past; everything else is simply filling in the gaps. ~ Nathan Filer

I think that the memory of Armenia's genocide opened my eyes at an early age to the existence of political cynicism. ~ Serj Tankian

I want to see how I can exist by myself. I want to be allowed to live inside my memory. ~ Emily Barr

Relius looked away. "He said that you ... cried," he said softly.
"But not that he cried as well," said the queen, amused at the memory. "We were very lachrymose ... would you like to hear more romance of the evening? He told me the Guard should be reduced by half, and I threw an ink jar at his head."
"Is that when he cried?"
"He ducked," said Attolia dryly.
"I had not pictured you for a fishwife."
"Lo, the transforming power of love. ~ Megan Whalen Turner

All quiet at the Tilden.

Except for the obese wife of a wealthy industrialist, the furtive face of a raw food quack and the memory of a silk-shirted hoodlum tossing a bill on the carpet for you to crawl and fetch.

All quiet except for the tortured face of a grey-eyed, ash-blonde lovely with a showgirl's body and a conscience heavier than a carload of sins. Mouth, a slash of red; eyes that pleaded for pity, understanding. And lips that told nothing… ~ E. Howard Hunt

It takes good memory to keep up a lie. ~ Pierre Corneille

What's so funny?" Bella mumbled.
"I got food in her hair," I told her, chortling again.
"I'm not going to forget this, dog," Rosalie hissed.
"S'not so hard to erase a blond's memory," I countered. "Just blow in her ear."
Get some new jokes, "Rosalie snapped. ~ Stephenie Meyer

If water could talk, there'd be some trace of all these years. It would tell of all it had taught him. How the lightest, most transparent things are heavy. How much effort it takes to contain what cannot be held; water runs through your fingers, so you find yourself empty-handed and still thirsty. But as water has no memory, no trace of his rage and loneliness will remain. He has lost those years forever. ~ Melania G. Mazzucco

In a fragment of a second you can understand: Things you know, things you don't know, things you don't know that you don't know, conscious, unconscious, things which in a fragrant of a second you can react to: we can all imagine why this capacity was given to us as human beings - I guess to survive. Architecture to me has the same kind of capacity. It takes longer to capture, but the essence to me is the same. I call this atmosphere. When you experience a building and it gets to you. It sticks in your memory and your feelings. I guess thats what I am trying to do. ~ Peter Zumthor

Important: When you're attempting to shift your thoughts, picking a new thought that you want to strengthen is essential. Think of changing a thought as like attempting to change a habit: When you change a habit, you don't so much break a bad habit as build up and strengthen a new one. When you practice entertaining new thoughts, eventually those new thoughts will start to become more automatic. In situations that used to trigger your old thoughts, now the new thought will also be triggered. ~ Alice Boyes

There's no way to really preserve a person when they've gone and that's because whatever you write down it's not the truth, it's just a story. Stories are all we're ever left with in our head or on paper: clever narratives put together from selected facts, legends, well edited tall tales with us in the starring roles ~ Steven Hall

I pulled myself out of the memory. My breathing was ragged. I couldn't push out the feeling that the memory left. Something so whole that my body craved and curled around it. I thought my soul was leaning toward the stone, wishing desperately to cling to a truth, a beacon that could guide me back to myself. That raw tenderness. That kiss that said goodbye, come back, and I love you all at once. This memory showed me hope. And that was something I could chase to the ends of the earth. ~ Roshani Chokshi

In the quantum multiverse all eventualities are possible. Which means, paradoxically, that all eventualities are inevitable. They have also quite possibly already happened. Make of that what you will, not that your will has much to do with it. Because here's the thing. If you believe that consciousness is an accumulation of memory; if you believe that you often know what's going to occur either through some animal instict or a human subscription to fate, then you are a walking and talking embodiment of everything happening all at once. ~ Emma Jane Unsworth

How long have you been here? (Jericho)
Don't know. Again, tried to count once, got depressed so I stopped. I find it easier to just go with the flow. Ease with the peas. (Asmodeus)
Ease with the peas? (Jericho)
Yeah, that's not a happy memory, either. Let's forget I mentioned it. (Asmodeus) ~ Sherrilyn Kenyon

The free, creative, loving people who shine so brightly in my memory of studios and coffee shops have become models for a huge section of the population. If they in turn can just stay alive in the face of power and terror, they may become the decisive section. ~ Kenneth Rexroth

Ambrose remembered. Fern had looked pretty–on the verge of beautiful–and it had confused him. He hadn't asked her to dance. He'd refused to ask her to dance. He'd even walked away from Bailey when Bailey had made the request.
"I hurt you, didn't I Fern?"
Fern shrugged her slim shoulders and smiled, but the smile was wobbly and her eyes had grown bright. Still, after more than three years, it was easy to see the memory pained her.
"I hurt you," he repeated, remorse and realization coloring his voice with regret.
Fern reached out and touched his scarred cheek. "You just didn't see me, that's all,"
"I was so blind then." He fingered a curl that coiled against her brow.
"Actually . . . you're kind of blind now," Fern teased quietly, seeking to ease his guilt with jest. "Maybe that's why you like me. ~ Amy Harmon

It's impossible that James Joyce could have mentioned "talk-tapes" in his writing, Asher thought. Someday I'm going to get my article published; I'm going to prove that Finnegan's Wake is an information pool based on computer memory systems that didn't exist until a century after James Joyce's era; that Joyce was plugged into a cosmic consciousness from which he derived the inspiration for his entire corpus of work. I'll be famous forever. ~ Philip K. Dick

...you don't have the memory of your future; {that}the future is indeed dark, which is the best thing it could be; and that, in the end, we always act in the dark. The effects of your actions may unfold in ways you cannot foresee or even imagine. ~ Rebecca Solnit

Memory is funny. Once you hit a vein the problem is not how to remember but how to control the flow. ~ Tobias Wolff

They'll pull the trigger and tell the hammer to hurry. ~ James McBride

History is the diary of humankind; to forget it is to try to navigate the future with no memory of the past. ~ T.L. Rese

Memory is merely the process of tuning into vibrations that have been left behind in space and time. ~ Michio Kushi

If memory survived eternally, then indeed there might be justification for a belief in hell. ~ Stacy Aumonier

Humans make art to remember and be remembered," said Caius. "Art is their weapon against forgetting. ~ Melissa Grey

What is a memory anyway but a painful dispute with the past? ~ Jeanette Winterson

To the Nightingale


On what secret night in England

Or by the incalculable constant Rhine,

Lost among all the nights of my nights,

Carried to my unknowing ear

Your voice, burdened with mythology,

Nightingale of Virgil, of the Persians?

Perhaps I never heard you, yet my life

I bound to your life, inseparably.

A wandering spirit is your symbol

In a book of enigmas. El Marino

Named you the siren of the woods

And you sing through Juliet's night

And in the intricate Latin pages

And from the pine-trees of that other,

Nightingale of Germany and Judea,

Heine, mocking, burning, mourning.

Keats heard you for all, everywhere.

There's not one of the bright names

The people of the earth have given you

That does not yearn to match your music,

Nightingale of shadows. The Muslim

Dreamed you drunk with ecstasy

His breast trans-pierced by the thorn

Of the sung rose that you redden

With your last blood. Assiduously

I plot these lines in twilight emptiness,

Nightingale of the shores and seas,

Who in exaltation, memory and fable

Burn with love and die melodiously. ~ Jorge Luis Borges

I think all writing is done through memory. ~ Guillermo Cabrera Infante