Paul Simon Quotes

These memories, which are my life--for we possess nothing certainly except the past--were always with me.

…she remembered watching a summer sunset from this very spot. Not so long ago; just a lifetime.

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

The Past, being in the mode of memory, is closed, inalienable, and irreparable.

Remembrance of things past.

We all have our time machines. Some take us back, they're called memories. Some take us forward, they're called dreams.

I remember way back when I was young, 10 years ago.

There is no fence nor hedge round time that is gone. You can go back and have what you like of it if you can remember.

At night I dream about going to where I played when I was still young.

Memories are the key not to the past, but to the future.

I am fascinated with times past.

The dearest days in one's life are those that seem very far and very near at once.

We all have our time machines, don't we. Those that take us back are memories...And those that carry us forward, are dreams.

In memory, you can access something from the past, anything that you've experienced that you remember - it's there. Now, you might have a memento of it in a photograph or in a film or a building or some clothes that you wore. There might be something that connects you to this memory. But all of us are just all caught in this time, whatever that is.

My theme is memory, that winged host that soared about me one grey morning of war-time. We possess nothing certainly except the past.

Tell me the tales that to me were so dear, Long, long ago, long, long ago.

The one charm about the past is that it is the past. But women never know when the curtain has fallen.

Yesterday is just a memory.

One of the reasons why old people make so many journeys into the past is to satisfy themselves that it is still there.

The past scampers like an alley cat through the present, leaving the paw prints of memories scattered helter-skelter.

I construct my memories with my present. I am lost, abandoned in the present. I try in vain to rejoin the past: I cannot escape.

You can lose your way groping among the shadows of the past. It's frightening how many people and things there are in a man's past that have stopped moving. The living people we've lost in the crypts of time sleep so soundly side by side with the dead that the same darkness envelops them all. As we grow older, we no longer know whom to awaken, the living or the dead.

there was a time when these weren't memories.

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.