Leslie Nielsen Quotes

Some people call me Dougie Fresh. I don't know why.

The best way to remember your wife's birthday is to forget it once.

Home is one's birthplace, ratified by memory.

I don't make notes for myself because I either lose them or they make no sense to me at all. I once found a piece of paper with the note: 'everything.' Apparently I made a note to myself not to forget everything!

How old would you be if you didn't know how old you were?

Perhaps being old is having lighted rooms inside your head, and people in them, acting. People you know, yet can't quite name.

When people say, 'I know you. What have I seen you in?' I respond, 'Well, it depends on how old you are.'

It doesn't matter where it is in the world or who I'm making the movie with; that's the closest thing that I've got to a sense of placement.

She said I bet you dont remember me And I said only every other memory.

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

One of the Georges - I forget which - once said that a certain number of hours´ sleep each night - I cannot recall at the moment how many - made a man something which for the time being has slipped my memory.

What is your name?" asked Lear. Caius," said Kent. And whence do you hail?" From Bonking, sire." Well, yes, lad, as do we all," said Lear, "but from what town?

I do know who you are. I just needed to be reminded.

The word 'home', it seemed, once learned, was a hard one to forget.

How do I know that loving life is not a delusion? How do I know that in hating death I am not like a man who, having left home in his youth, has forgotten the way back?

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

„Ma'am?“ She glanced up at me, pushing her glasses up her nose as she did. “Hmm? Oh, I remember you. Miss Melbourne.“ “Melrose,“ I corrected. “Are you sure? I could've sworn you were named after someplace in Australia.“ „Well, my first name is Sydney,“ I said, not sure if I should be encouraging her.

I spend all my time trying to keep thoughts away and ignore them....But here you are, trying to remember your own life, writing your thoughts down so that you don't forget. I suddenly realized what it would be like not to know, not to remember.

Today is 11/11/11, a date so simple even Rick Perry can remember it.

Astronomers say the universe is finite, which is a comforting thought for those people who can't remember where they leave things.

The other night I came home late, and tried to unlock my house with my car keys. I started the house up. So, I drove it around for a while. I was speeding, and a cop pulled me over. He asked where I lived. I said, "Right here, officer."

I read recently that I was born in Arizona. I wasn't born in Arizona. I was born in New Mexico, but I can understand why people might confuse those two Southwestern desert states.

I spent so much time telling myself that this wasn't home that I started to believe it," she said carefully. "Belonging has always been tough for me." I can be your home," he said quietly. "Belong to me.

Construed as turf, home just seems a provisional claim, a designation you make upon a place, not one it makes on you. A certain set of buildings, a glimpsed, smudged window-view across a schoolyard, a musty aroma sniffed behind a garage when you were a child, all of which come crowding in upon your latter-day senses -- those are pungent things and vivid, even consoling. But to me they are also inert and nostalgic and unlikely to connect you to the real, to that essence art can sometimes achieve, which is permanence.

One is always at home in one's past.