Top 1200 Our Memories Quotes & Sayings - Page 2

In our lonely hours we awake those sleeping images with which our memories are stored, and vitalize them again.

Analysis helps patients put their unconscious procedural memories and actions into words and into context, so they can better understand them. In the process they plastically retranscribe these procedural memories, so that they become conscious explicit memories, sometimes for the first time, and patients no longer need to "relive" or "reenact" them, especially if they were traumatic.

Those rosy memories we all share are actually memories from our favorite TV shows. We've confused our own childhoods with episodes of "Ozzie and Harriet," "Father Knows Best," and "The Brady Bunch." In real life, Ozzie had a very visible mistress for years, Bud and Kitten on "Father Knows Best" grew up to become major druggies, and Mom on "The Brady Bunch" dated her fifteen-year-old fictional son.

Our tears fatten upon our memories of joy.

Painful memories are gone! Together, we can build up good memories.

Our memories are the keys to our past and everything we've ever worked for, fought for, and dreamed of.

I have memories of films that nobody ever saw, that I was very proud of, and those are still great memories.

To be successful we must live from our imaginations, not from our memories.

To extend our memories by monuments, whose death we daily pray for, and whose duration we cannot hope, without injury to our expectations in the advent of the last day, were a contradiction to our belief.

We are the women of daylight; of clocks and steel foundries, of drugstores and streetlights, of superhighways that slice our days in two. Our dreams are pale memories of themselves, and nagging doubt is the false measure of our days.

Memories, pressed between the pages of my mind. Memories, sweetened through the ages just like wine.

Our spirit is mightier than the filth of our memories.

His entired life bundled into wenty refuse sacks. His and her memories bundle away in Holly's mind. Each item unearthed dust, tears, laughter and memories. She bagged the items, cleared the dust, wiped her eyes and filed away the memories.

Our memories are independent of our wills.

I realized the shells were talking in a voice I recognized. I should have; it was my own. Had I always known that? I suppose I had. On some level, unless we're mad, I think most of us know the various voices of our own imaginations. And of our memories, of course. They have voices, too. Ask anyone who has ever lost a limb or a child or a long-cherished dream. Ask anyone who blames himself for a bad decision, usually made in a raw instant (an instant that is most commonly red). Our memories have voices, too. Often sad ones that clamor like raised arms in the dark.

All bad memories erased! Now you can make new ones-good memories.

We can't reliably distinguish true memories from false memories.

True friends are never forgotten, they live within our hearts and souls.... forever , and always , dancing on our stage of memories.

When it comes to memories of that iconic type, memories that are burned into you, I have maybe ten or so from my childhood. I'm a bad rememberer of situations. I forget almost everything as soon as it happens.

I have the most evil memories of Spain, but I have very few bad memories of Spaniards.

Memories are who we are. In the end, that's all the luggage you take with you. Love and Memories are what last.

Our collective memories are welcoming places, and one image, that of Jesus, has absorbed and appropriated elements of other traditions and aspirations in order to shape our communal remembering.

Our dreams must be stronger than our memories.

In solitude we give passionate attention to our lives, to our memories, to the details around us.

The Gospel was not meant merely to reside in our intellect, memories, and tongues, but to be seen in our lives.

When our memories outweigh our dreams, it is then that we become old.

We humans are different - our brains are built not to fix memories in stone but rather to transform them, our recollections in their retelling.

I try to keep the happy memories. If that's what you call selective memories, I'm good with that.

Keep memories of insult on a short leash, and memories of blessing on a long one.

It is, I suppose, the business of grandparents to create memories and the relative of memories: traditions. We want to lodge moments, like snapshots, in the fleeting video of time.

To have memories of those you have loved and lost is perhaps harder than to have no memories.

The memories obviously of playing with Maradona are fantastic memories, he's probably the most important part of my career.

I'll always have the memories of guys I lost in Vietnam. And I've lost friends since the war, but I'll always have the memories. The riches are great, but riches aren't everything, because when you go you can only take your memories and your word and your honor to the grave with you.

Memories, even hard memories, grew soft like peaches as they grow older.

Many books owe their success to the good memories of their authors and the bad memories of their readers.

Movies touch our hearts, and awaken our vision, and change the way we see things. They take us to other places. They open doors and minds. Movies are the memories of our lifetime. We need to keep them alive.

The Jungian view of drama would be that it affects all of our imaginations and somehow taps into our hidden, ancient, primordial memories.

I have a lot of bitter memories from Beijing. Hopefully, we can erase those memories and bring the gold back to Japan.

Some memories come with a very compelling sense of truth about them. And that happens to be the case even with memories that are not true.

If we knew a person was going to die, we'd hold harder to the memories." Fire corrected him, in a whisper. "The good memories.

Memories are the height of poetry only when they are memories of happiness. When they graze wounds over which scars have formed they become an aching pain.

It's funny how, as we get older, what become our fondest memories are not necessarily the happiest times of our lives but the times of our lives that shaped us the most.

It seems like our first food memories, no matter how unpleasant, often end up making their way into our hearts anyway.

Our body is the place that our memories and dreams call home for the time being.

Our lives are the sum of our memories. How much are we willing to lose from our already short lives by … not paying attention?

It can connect us to memories. It can influence our mood and our responses to problems we might face.

Life is simply a collection of memories, but memories are like star light... They live on Forever.

In our memories the stories of our lives defy chronology, resist transcription: past ambushes present, and future hurries into history.

We have such a brief opportunity to pass on to our children our love for this Earth, and to tell our stories. These are the moments when the world is made whole. In my children's memories, the adventures we've had together in nature will always exist.

The worst part of holding the memories is not the pain. It's the loneliness of it. Memories need to be shared.

What is erotic? The acrobatic play of the imagination. The sea of memories in which we bathe. The way we caress and worship things with our eyes. Our willingness to be stirred by the sight of the voluptuous. What is erotic is our passion for the liveliness of life.

I have a lot of memories, but I don't go into capitalizing on that. Something's got to be my own. I'm not doing the record to sit here and broadcast my memories of my father.

In my life I find that memories of the spirit linger and sweeten long after memories of the brain have faded.

What I have got from my childhood aren't toys, but memories. And happy memories are better than any toy.

I'm interested in the parallel narrative of our fantasy lives. How the moment of 'now' that is palpably real, is surrounded by our memories, our dreams and hopes, the stories and connections that our brains make as we navigate a universe of fantasy, or unreality, or surreality. I'm keen to explore this very human experience, how our minds create our own realities, a blend of fact and interpretation of fact.

We become imprisoned by our memories, and that makes our lives wretched.

Comforters for our todays / Guardians of memories / Keeping our youth and yesterdays alive / Comrades with one history.

Nostalgia is eternal for Americans. We are often displaced from our origins and carry anxious memories of that lost past. We fear losing our bearings.

But as the cerebellum degrades with age, so does the quality of memories. The memories are there, but they're not as good.

I have memories of watching the Champions League as a kid in France. We all supported different teams and they were intense moments. Great memories.