Sebastian Faulks Quotes

The years leech at a man's memories, even those he has vowed never to forget.

It's my memory, and what happened between that moment 10 or 15 years ago and now, there's a lot of gray area.

A lot of my past is gone from my mind.

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

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

And though I remember her name I cannot recall her face. All things pass.

My memories pale as I prevail upon them again and again. They become more and more ghostly. I fear nothing so much as losing them altogether and having only my blank endless mind to live in.

Voters memories will fade some.

My mind is vacant on names, but I know him as well as anything. When I need names they drop out of my head; when I don't need them they drop back.

I cannot sing the old songs now! It is not that I deem them low, 'Tis that I can't remember how They go.

It's been 25 years now, and truthfully, time sometimes blurs the memory.

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

During the eight years that Dwight Eisenhower was President ... even to the last year of his incumbency, if I happened to be with a group of senators and others greeting him, I had to tell him my name.

I can't remember names and things.

My father could never remember anybody's name.

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")

The memory of everything is very soon overwhelmed in time.

Sifting daylight dissolves the memory, turns it into dust motes floating in light.

As for the square at Meknes, where I used to go every day, it's even simpler: I do not see it at all anymore. All that remains is the vague feeling that it was charming, and these five words that are indivisibly bound together: a charming square at Meknes. ... I don't see anything any more: I can search the past in vain, I can only find these scraps of images and I am not sure what they represent, whether they are memories or just fiction.

As the end approaches, there are no longer any images from memory - there are only words.

Ask yourself: What did I eat for breakfast today? What did I eat for dinner last night? You see how fast reality fades away?

Day by day and night by night we were together - all else has long been forgotten by me.

Funny how the nature of a normal day is the first memory to fade.

Name and date split in soft slate a few months obliterate. 166

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.