Quotes About Memory

He sought not to efface sorrow by forgetfulness, but to magnify and dignify it by hope. He said:— Have a care of the manner in which you turn towards the dead. Think not of that which perishes. Gaze steadily. You will perceive the living light of your well-beloved dead in the depths of heaven.

Promise to give me a kiss on my brow when I am dead. --I shall feel it.

The memory of an absent being kindles in the darkness of the heart; the more it has disappeared, the more it beams; the gloomy and despairing soul sees this light on its horizon; the star of the inner night.

El recuerdo de un ser ausente se ilumina en las tinieblas del corazón, y cuanto más completamente va desapareciendo, más brilla; el alma desesperada y obscura ve esta luz en su horizonte como una estrella de la noche anterior.

Je ne vis qu'elle était belle Qu'en sortant des grands bois sourds. «Soit ; n'y pensons plus ! » dit-elle. Depuis, j'y pense toujours.

This is at the beginning of my book: When a man is out of sight, it is not too long before he is out of mind. Victor Hugo

They were eyes no longer, but had become those fathomless mirrors which in men who have known the depths of suffering may replace the conscious gaze, so that they no longer see reality but reflect the memory of past events.

This is how my love for her goes on: in moments remembered and moments imagined. It's how I keep her alive. Hers is the voice in my head, my conscience. I see the world, at least in part, through her eyes. Her story—which is the story of a time and land and the indomitable will of a people—is my story; two lives woven together, and like any good story, ours will begin and end and begin again. Love is what remains.

Grief, like regret, settles into our DNA and remains forever a part of us.

Remember this, she thought. The way the light caught in his unruly hair, the love in his brown eyes, the chapped lips that had kissed her only an hour ago, in the darkness.

Though nothing can bring back the hour of splendor in the grass, of glory in the flower; We will grieve not; rather find strength in what remains behind. —WILLIAM WORDSWORTH, ODE:

Why was it that pebbles looked like boulders until they were in your rearview mirror?

What do I do without you?" Elsa tried to smile but couldn't. She was too tired. Too weak. "You live, Loreda," she whispered. "And know Ã¢â'¬Â¦ every single second Ã¢â'¬Â¦ how much I loved you." Find your voice and use it Ã¢â'¬Â¦ take chances Ã¢â'¬Â¦ never give up.

The past has a clarity I can no longer see in the present.

A better mother would shape that anger into loss and then, at least, into the kind of memory of love one can sustain, but Vianne was too empty to be a good mother right now. She could think of no words that weren't a lie or useless.

To those who are here, those who are gone, and those who are lost." She

I want to imagine there will be peace when I am gone, that I will see all of the people I have loved and lost. At least that I will be forgiven.

talking to each other in Russian, remembering the ghosts in the room. In words and looks and smiles, we honor them at last.

She smiled at the memory, even as it saddened her to think that somewhere along the way their dreams had untangled, gone on separate paths.

We remember the missing as much as the lost, don't we?

It would always be a part of her, a scar on her soul, but like all scars, it faded in time from a bright and burning red to a slim, silvery line that could only sometimes be seen.

I kept an image of you in my mind through all of it.

If ever I am inclined in the future to disbelieve in love, I will remember this moment.

I feel like Dorothy, back in Kansas, a black-and-white girl in a black-and-white world, with memories in color.