Good Memory Verses Novels & Stories

I asked her. She knelt down beside me, cigarette between her fingers. "You don't fight a memory with a memory. You fight it with truth" " But what ifmine isn't enough " I asked with concern showing on my face. she looked at me before dragging in her cigarette and then exhaling the smoke" " Then you borrow someone else's" CALLUM:

Goodness can I smack this Donna on her head? "This is just my point of view okay? We may lose the memory of how we lived our life but the knowledge remains, understand what I mean? We are still able to speak what we have learned and known even if we don't remember how we gained knowledge, how we learned, what process we've been through. Knowledge gains in a split of seconds by understanding and analyzing everything, our brain still works anytime while we are still living this world. Memories are just images in our minds that flashes and go while knowledge stocks inside developing every second it passes" am I right? "Anyway can I borrow some clothes I wanna take a bath," I said before they co

“Really? I don’t remember you at all.” “That’s impossible,” she whispered, her eyes trembling as she muttered to herself, dazed and broken. “No, Mr. Wilson must be wrong. You can’t have lost your memory.” Her voice cracked, and she cried until she could barely breathe.

“So she will have to fight all the good memories.” “Yes.” The scientist stated as he turned his attention back to his laptop. “So your daughter will treat her good right?.” The man inquired with narrowed eyes. “She will. Unlike your cousin my daughter actually likes to enjoy life and will teach your niece how to enjoy like too.” The man stated confidently. “If she gets her memories back than she will know something is wrong instantly.” The young man stated with pressed lips. “That is true.” Mumble murmurs went around the room. The man with the smokers voice didn’t seem fazed, he actually smiled big as he looked at everyone.

Guh. “Do you have good memories?” he suddenly asked out of nowhere. “Recently, I have had nightmarish memories especially when I met you,” I replied. When there was a car in front of us, Lansford faced me and flicked my forehead. “That’s not what I meant,” he said. “I am asking if you are good at remembering things, instructions, or words… that kind of good memory.” Oh, I thought he was referring to past events. I straightened my back and held my head high.

Antoine watched Camille, his eyes filled with concern and curiosity. Camille’s emotions surged, and tears began to roll down her cheeks, salty and bittersweet. How long had it been since she last remembered the scent of her mother’s lily of the valley? How long had it been since she felt the vibrant essence of fragrance, the subtle bond between scent and memory? 'Muse' didn’t just analyze the scent—it awakened a corner of her mind she thought lost forever. It allowed her to 'see' images again, to 'hear' sounds, and to feel the delicate stirrings of emotions she believed had disappeared for good.

“You always take everything so precisely. Just say: nine kilometers in half an hour. " "Probably ten kilometers then!" Josh groaned from the floor. "You always have to be so specific about everything!" "And you have to see a competition in everything." "I only get really good when I'm really encouraged!" Janik defended himself. "Speaking of competition, who can do the most pull-ups?" Josh sat up. "Give me five minutes and I'll be there." An hour later, both men were knocked out, Janik had beaten Josh on the pull-ups and Josh had trumped him on the box jumps. "Are we going to have breakfast?"

I whispered in shock, "Mmm... it is really tasty." I stopped drinking for a moment. I turned to him with a question that suddenly popped into my head. "Wait, do you even know the name of the village?" He made an unclear sound while focusing on the road. Then he added, "You mentioned it before in the hall." I narrowed my eyes slowly. I searched my memory for the moment I said the name. I asked him in surprise, "How did you remember that?" He looked at me from the side. I saw his eyes watching the way I ate the croissant with a quiet curiosity. He answered with a smirk. "I have a memory like iron. If I see or hear something, it stays carved in my mind."

PHOEBE I spent the entire night tossing and turning, my mind trapped in a chaotic, unending loop of ocean-blue eyes and haunted confessions. Highly Superior Autobiographical Memory. The man literally couldn’t forget a single bad day if he tried. Every slight, every grief, every scratch on a wall or tone of voice was locked away in his brain in permanent, unyielding high-definition. It was mind-blowing, it’s exciting yet I could guess how exhausting it might also be. I couldn’t even remember what I’d eaten for breakfast last Thursday, and my entire childhood before the age of ten was just a blank, velvety void of nothingness—a biological mercy file my brain had apparently decided to delete fo

Lucky thing everyone has to ignore me, he thought with a grin. The remainder of the day passed without any real incident. Michael spent much of it exercising his newfound abilities. He learned to better focus his senses, sharpening them to an unbelievable degree. Furthermore, his mind had grown as well - he could mentally file and cross-reference anything he'd ever experienced with ease. To call his memory photographic would be an understatement, he could even recall any conversation that had occurred within earshot or the exact words of a sign or page that he'd glanced at but never read. Okay, so school is going to be a whole lot easier now.