Lynn Flewelling Quotes

There is a stage you reach, Deagle thinks, a time somewhere in early middle age, when your past ceases to be about yourself. Your connection to your former life is like a dream or delirium, and that person who you once were is merely a fond acquaintance, or a beloved character from a storybook. This is how memory becomes nostalgia. They are two very different things - the same way that a person is different from a photograph of a person.

When we look at something that is alien to us, that is beyond our comprehension, what do we see but ourselves?

Who was I? The stranger was footsteps in the snow a long time ago.

But I believe above all that I wanted to build the palace of my memory, because my memory is my only homeland.

I'm not into watching stuff I did last week, let alone three or four years ago.

I realized I've spent all my life creating a past.

Maybe one day I can have a reunion with myself.

How little remains of the man I once was, save the memory of him! But remembering is only a new form of suffering.

I like the unknown. I like mystery.

People occasionally recognise me. But they don't know who I am. I see a lot of bemused looks... They're trying to figure it out.

I think I write about things that are mysterious to me.

Do not know yourself. I want to continue to surprise me.

I've never quite understood that feeling: that you arrive in a strange place, yet you want to have nothing but familiar experiences.

I don't have a warm personal enemy left. They've all died off. I miss them terribly because they helped define me.

I'm usually very attracted to things that I can't define. If something's too clear, it's very often not inspiring to me anymore.

Let a man turn to his own childhood - no further - if he will renew his sense of remoteness, and of the mystery of change.

I don't really look into the past too much.

I look forward and see myself look back.

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

memory is the only way home.

I want to talk to him. I want to ask him about that girl and if he loved her and still misses her.

Why was I with her? She reminds me of you. In fact, she reminds me more of you than you do!

That is the saddest part when you lose someone you love - that person keeps changing. And later you wonder, Is this the same person I lost? Maybe you lost more maybe less, then thousand different things that come from your memory or imagination - and you do not know which is which, which was true, which is false.

No one tells us, girls who don't go on dates, that remembering can be almost as good as what actually happens.

What he wanted was not just to hear about Hailsham, but to remember Hailsham, just like it had been his own childhood. He knew he was close to completing and so that's what he was doing: getting me to describe things to him, so they'd really sink in, so that maybe during those sleepless nights, with the drugs and the paint and the exhaustion, the line would blur between what were my memories and what were his.