Steve Hackett Quotes

Our memory is and always will be as good as time travel gets, and in the meantime time will do the travelling for us.

Memory is the first casualty of middle age, if I remember correctly.

I always have trouble remembering three things: faces, names, and - I can't remember what the third thing is.

When I'm 60, maybe, I'll look at my pile of papers and wonder, What really happened that year?

Middle age is when your old classmates are so grey and wrinkled and bald they don't recognize you.

It's funny, I listen to friends who talk about back when they were 14, eight, 16, whatever, as if it was yesterday. Me, I've no idea what I did. It's all a blur, I'm afraid.

I've a grand memory for forgetting.

People do not connect with what happened last week, let alone what happened 20 years ago.

People can remember their childhood, but events from four or five years ago are in a never-never land.

I can barely remember what I was like 36 years ago when I was 21 years old.

I was very young during 'Chachi 420' and don't remember much now.

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

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")

Before we are forgotten, we will be turned into kitsch. Kitsch is the stopover between being and oblivion.

If I try to summon back his face, the sound of his voice, and the sensation in my stomach like a key turning in a lock when he touched me, I lose everything.

When I was younger, I could remember anything, whether it had happened or not; but my faculties are decaying now and soon I shall be so I cannot remember any but the things that never happened. It is sad to go to pieces like this but we all have to do it.

The degree of slowness is directionally proportional to the intensity of memory. The degree of speed is directionally proportional to the intensity of forgetting.

The strangeness of Time. Not in its passing, which can seem infinite, like a tunnel whose end you can't see, whose beginning you've forgotten, but in the sudden realization that something finite, has passed, and is irretrievable.

Should auld acquaintance be forgot, And never brought to min?

Time can be a greedy thing-sometimes it steals the details for itself.

The past is never where you think you left it.

From now on when people asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I planned to say, Amnesiac.

It is singular how soon we lose the impression of what ceases to be constantly before us. A year impairs, a luster obliterates. There is little distinct left without an effort of memory, then indeed the lights are rekindled for a moment - but who can be sure that the Imagination is not the torch-bearer?

People forget years and remember moments.

The older you get the more you live in the past