Norris H. Cotton Quotes

I remember a lot of people, but when I meet people and I'm stoned, I'm not as good with names.

My mind is vacant on names, but I know him as well as anything. When I need names they drop out of my head; when I don't need them they drop back.

My memory about names and places now is dreadful. But lines, I can remember.

Just because you're old that doesn't mean you're more forgetful. The same people whose names I can't remember now I couldn't remember fifty years ago. . .

You can't recall someone whose name has worn away.

He raised his eyes. "Sister. See. This time I knew you." Asha's heart skipped a beat. "Theon?" His lips skinned back in what might have been a grin. Half his teeth were gone, and half those still left him were broken and splintered. "Theon," he repeated. "My name is Theon. You have to know your name.

It's funny, now there are so many bands that I can never remember any of their names. Maybe it's because I'm old.

What’s her name? Claire, what’s her name?

Emmeline didn't call me anything. She didn't need, for I was always there. You only need names for the absent.

Maybe the memory does play tricks. Increasingly, I'm thinking, 'What was their name? I knew that name yesterday.' I think that's what happens. At some point, I'll forget that I ever worked with Peter Cook, I suppose, and Alan Bennett and Jonathan Miller.

I used to have a really sharp memory. And its loss has proven destabilizing from an identity perspective.

The names are the first things to go, after the breath has gone, and the beating of the heart. We keep our memories longer than our names.

I feel quite confident there will never be a plane on the face of the Earth with my name on it.

To get your name well enough known that you can run for a public office, some people do it by being great lawyers or philanthropists or business people or work their way up the political ladder. I happened to become known from a different route.

I can remember much forgetfulness.

I did some research on this a couple years ago," Augustus continued. "I was wondering if everybody could be remembered. Like, if we got organized, and assigned a certain number of corpses to each living person, would there be enough living people to remember all the dead people?" "And are there?" "Sure, anyone can name fourteen dead people. But we're disorganized mourners, so a lot of people end up remembering Shakespeare and no one ends up remembering the person he wrote Sonnet Fifty-five about

I can't read music and I'm crap at learning lyrics. Especially since the accident I have memory problems. I can't remember words, names, places.

Of all the faculties of the mind, memory is the first that flourishes, and the first that dies.

I knew every raindrop by its name.

A lot of people have dementia, which is great, because then they don't recognize me.

I don’t think it should be socially acceptable for people to say they are “bad with names.” No one is bad with names. That is not a real thing. Not knowing people’s names isn’t a neurological condition; it’s a choice. You choose not to make learning people’s names a priority. It’s like saying, “Hey, a disclaimer about me: I’m rude.

My biggest fear is losing memory because memory is what we are. Your very soul and your very reason to be alive is tied up in memory.

Thanking people is dangerous business. A name always slips your mind.

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

How that name comes up. Mixing memory and desire