Charles Stuart Calverley Quotes

Where are the songs I used to know, Where are the notes I used to sing? I have forgotten everything I used to know so long ago. ("The Key-Note")

I don't remember what I did fifty years ago.

I don't want to be one of those people saying, 'Remember when things were better?'

When you begin to think about the past, you realize how much of it is lost to us.

I still love 'All Right Now,' strangely enough. But then that's probably because I didn't play it for some twenty years.

The older you get the more new memories get wiped out, and you end up remembering more about your early life than what you did last week.

Great Time makes all things dim.

To forget is the secret of eternal youth. One grows old only through memory. There's much too little forgetting.

And what did I think when I was small and why did I forget? And what else will I forget when I grow older? And if you forget is it as if it never happened? Will none of the things you saw or thought or dreamed matter?

Let it be forgotten, as a flower is forgotten, Forgotten as a fire that once was singing gold, Let it be forgotten forever and ever, Time is a kind friend, he will make us old.

I suppose that we are only young, Chris, so long as we can forget. After that we merely remember!

There comes a time when suddenly you realize that laughter is something you remember and that you were the one laughing.

When someone's been gone a long time, at first you save up all the things you want to tell them. You try to keep track of everything in your head. But it's like trying to hold on to a fistful of sand: all the little bits slip out of your hands, and then you're just clutching air and grit.

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. . .

Just remember that the things you put into your head are there forever, he said. You might want to think about that. You forget some things, dont you? Yes. You forget what you want to remember and you remember what you want to forget.

Where I went in my travels, it's impossible for me to recall. I remember the sights and sounds and smells clearly enough, but the names of the towns are gone, as well as any sense of the order in which I traveled from place to place.

That's the trouble with living things. Don't last very long. Kittens one day, old cats the next. And then just memories. And the memories fade and blend and smudge together.

Visiting old haunts is hard on memory. Things shrink, change, and disappear.

When you lose interest in anything, you also lose the memory for it.

I wish there was a way to know you were in the good old days before you actually left them.

Like a tree losing its leaves. I forget even the thing I was thinking.

It was hard to remember what the yard had looked like even twelve hours before, undisturbed and pristine. Like it takes so little to change something, but to make you forget the way it once was, as well.

Music evokes emotion and emotion can bring it's memory.

..I fancied you'd return the way you said, But I grow old and I forget your name. (I think I made you up inside my head.) I should have loved a thunderbird instead; At least when spring comes they roar back again. I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead. (I think I made you up inside my head.)