Top 1200 Memory Lane Quotes & Sayings - Page 5

I can't always be Lois Lane," I insisted. "I want to be Superman, too.

I have a terrible memory of my own past. I can barely remember my childhood. I have few memories from college and law school - though once I got married, I got the advantage of being able to consult my husband's memory.

When I was a kid, a pickleball hit me in the back of the head, and I had memory problems. I was in a boarding school and the nuns gave me poems to remember to try and get the memory going again.

White Hart Lane was always a place where I felt I belonged.

Memory blurs, that's the point. If memory didn't blur you wouldn't have the fool's courage to do things again, again, again, that tear you apart.

There's no better feeling that celebrating in Victory Lane.

As far as the melodic style, I feel like I'm in my own lane.

We only really remember things for five years. After that, what we remember, what's actually etched in our brain is our memory of the thing, not the thing itself. And five years after that, what's left is our memory of the memory.

I have more questions than answers in this world as do most poets and writers. The field of memory we exist in is absolutely encompassing and is both a question and answer. It is memory that provides the heart with impetus, fuels the brain, and propels the corn plant from seed to fruit.

Every loss which we incur leaves behind it vexation in the memory, save the greatest loss of all, that is, death, which annihilates the memory, together with life.

I first learned what a rivalry really was at White Hart Lane.

As a novelist, I mined my history, my family and my memory, but in a very specific way. Writing fiction, I never made use of experiences immediately as they happened. I needed to let things fester in my memory, mature and transmogrify into something meaningful.

Life," Garp wrote, "is sadly not structured like a good old-fashioned novel. Instead an end occurs when those who are meant to peter out have petered out. All that is left is memory. But even a nihilist has memory.

Nathan Lane's Bus of Broadway Fun will be leaving shortly.

I listen to people talking sometimes, that great river that is language, with all its undercurrents of grammar and nuance, and I wonder how we all learn so quickly to speak it, given that we begin when we are barely old enough to stand upright. I have no memory of finding it hard. Indeed, I have no memory of it at all.

When everything is coming your way, you're probably in the wrong lane.

It is useful to remember that history is to the nation as memory is to the individual. As a person deprived of memory becomes disorientated and lost, not knowing where they have been or where they are going , so a nation denied a conception of the past will be disabled in dealing with its present and its future.

I think memory is essential to what we are. If we - we wouldn't be able to talk to each other without memory. And what we think of as the present really is the past. It is made out of the past.

I just make my Boosie music and that puts me in my own lane.

This is the fast lane, folks...and some of us like it here.

When everything is coming your way, youre probably in the wrong lane.

Katie Lane is a wonderful new voice in Western romance fiction.

There are few greater treasures to be acquired in youth than great poetry-and prose-stored in the memory. At the time one may resent the labor of storing. But they sleep in the memory and awake in later years, illuminated by life and illuminating it.

Apparently there is redundancy in memory: You store the same memory in different parts of your brain for accessing at different speeds. That speed would depend on the frequency of use and the importance of the knowledge.

It was weird to be in a movie that's very clearly a period piece like Killing Reagan, but that's about a time that's within my own memory. That's really weird. And conscious memory, not just vague.

I stay in my lane of assignment and do what I'm supposed to do in life.

When I draw defenders into the lane, it's easy for me to kick it out.

When everything's coming your way, you're in the wrong lane.

You don't have that many women in the industry so the lane is wide open.

I don't worry about timings or what somebody else is doing in another lane.

Healing does not take place in the fast lane.

He smiles in my memory. A curled lip. Straight teeth. Light in his eyes. Laughing, teasing, more alive in memory than I m in reality. It was him or me. I chose me. But I feel dead too.

My own journey in becoming a poet began with memory - with the need to record and hold on to what was being lost. One of my earliest poems, 'Give and Take,' was about my Aunt Sugar, how I was losing her to her memory loss.

I stay in my lane and do what I want to do. I don't worry about the outside world.

Life is a highway - the enjoyment you get depends on the lane you choose.

Can your player make a curl cut and score in the lane? If so, he is the cutter.

Music gave me that neutral lane to relate with everyone.

I brought a mirror to Lovers' Lane. I told everybody I'm Narcissus.

The most vital things in the look of a landscape endure only for a moment. Work should be done from memory; memory of that vital moment.

As much as I love Neil Lane, I don't want to have a ring graveyard.

Give Hamas 90 days to pick a lane, then react.

Who wants to live in a world where you can only stay in the lane of your birth?

I think Swaggy P's in a lane of his own. I'm one of them type of guys.

You don't have to stay in your lane when it comes to friendship or ideas.

Voices surround us, always telling us to move faster. It may be our boss, our pastor, our parents, our wives, our husbands, our politicians, or, sadly, even ourselves. So we comply. We increase the speed. We live life in the fast lane because we have no slow lanes anymore. Every lane is fast, and the only comfort our culture can offer is more lanes and increased speed limits. The result? Too many of us are running as fast as we can, and an alarming number of us are running much faster than we can sustain.

I'm aware of everything - it's my job - I keep up to speed, and I have a blessed memory. The brain chemistry I have is such that my memory is wonderful. And sometimes it's helpful, and other times it ends up being frustrating.

Lose the pessimism, Ms. Lane. It's a self-fulfilling prophecy.

My own journey in becoming a poet began with memory - with the need to record and hold on to what was being lost. One of my earliest poems, Give and Take, was about my Aunt Sugar, how I was losing her to her memory loss.

And, as always happens, and happens far too soon, the strange and wonderful becomes a memory and a memory becomes a dream. Tomorrow it's gone.

If you meet the Buddha in the lane, feed him the ball.

Memory is useful because it gives us a sense of continuity. But memory is also imprisoning because it conditions us in predictable ways.

While the repression of a memory is a psychological process, the suppression of feeling is accomplished by deadening a part of the body or reducing its motility so that feeling is diminished. The repression of the memory is dependent upon and related to the suppression of feeling, for as long as the feeling persists, the memory remains vivid. Suppression entails the development of chronic muscular tension in those areas of the body where the feeling would be experienced. In the case of sexual feeling, this tension is found in and about the abdomen and pelvis

I'm in my own little lane, doing just me. I don't have to fit in.

When people are used to you doing something, they want you to stay in that lane.

Most of my stuff comes from Eloquii, Torrid, Lane Bryant - even Target!

Without memory, there is no culture. Without memory, there would be no civilization, no society, no future.

I really don't care to be criticized. I stay in my lane and do me.

Stay in your lane. If you're good enough, people will move to you.

That is my major preoccupation, memory, the kingdom of memory. I want to protect and enrich that kingdom, glorify that kingdom and serve it.

Has it ever struck you ... that life is all memory, except for the one present moment that goes by you so quickly you hardly catch it going? It’s really all memory ... except for each passing moment.