Don DeLillo Quotes

When we reflect on our past sentiments and affections, our thought is a faithful mirror, and copies its objects truly; but the colours which it employs are faint and dull, in comparison of those in which our original perceptions were clothed.

Everyone has ways of trying to find a way to memorise our past. There's something very poetic about that.

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

Your past is always your past. Even if you forget it, it remembers you.

It was a long time ago now. And it was yesterday.

Somewhere in the future I am remembering today.

I'm horrified to find, as I look at these diaries of twenty-five years ago or more, that I don't remember who the people were. "Bill and Tony were constantly in and out. We went to La Jolla" - or something. I haven't the bluest idea who they were!

This is the place. Stand still, my steed,- Let me review the scene, And summon from the shadowy past The forms that once have been.

When to the sessions of sweet silent thought I summon up remembrance of things past, I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought.

I write a lot about the past because I really see things clearly in hindsight.

I don't think anybody thinks about their past much, unless they're in a mental institution.

I was looking at the photographs and I started thinking that there was a time when these weren't memories.

I'm surprised by how much I remember.

The past is a curious thing. It's with you all the time. I suppose an hour never passes without your thinking of things that happened ten or twenty years ago, and yet most of the time it's got no reality, it's just a set of facts that you've learned, like a lot of stuff in a history book. Then some chance sight or sound or smell, especially smell, sets you going, and the past doesn't merely come back to you, you're actually IN the past. It was like that at this moment.

I am interested in the past. Perhaps one of the reasons is we cannot make, cannot change the past. I mean you can hardly unmake the present. But the past after all is merely to say a memory, a dream. You know my own past seems continually changed when I am remembering it, or reading things that are interesting to me.

The past is the place we view the present from as much as the other way around.

How that name comes up. Mixing memory and desire

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.

But standing in that hallway, it was all coming back to me. Memories were waiting at the edges of things, beckoning to me.

Memories were the markers of the journey through life. It was necessary to know where you had come from. Only then could you know where you were going.

Memories which someday will become all beautiful when the last annoyance that encumbers them shall have faded out of our minds.

I ain't really sure, but it seems I remember the good times

It's funny how close the past is, sometimes. Sometimes it seems as if you could almost reach out and touch it. Only who really wants to?

The thought of our past years in me doth breed perpetual benedictions.