Quotes About Memory

The remembrance of a woman is longer than a tear. (Le souvenir d'une femme - Est plus long qu'une larme.)

The soul is like pollen: we remember it. (L'âme est comme le pollen : - Elle fait souvenir d'elle.)

"I am the Ghost of Christmas Past." "Long past?" inquired Scrooge…. "No. Your past."

It's only my child-wife.

Before I go," he said, and paused -- "I may kiss her?" It was remembered afterwards that when he bent down and touched her face with his lips, he murmured some words. The child, who was nearest to him, told them afterwards, and told her grandchildren when she was a handsome old lady, that she heard him say, "A life you love.

Christmas is a time in which, of all times in the year, the memory of every remediable sorrow, wrong, and trouble in the world around us, should be active with us, not less than our own experiences, for all good.

We'll start to forget a place once we left it

and memory, however sad, is the best and purest link between this world and a better. But come! I'll tell you a story of another kind.

I remember him as something left behind upon the road of life—as something I have passed, rather than have actually been—and almost think of him as of someone else.

The fire? It has been alive as long as I have. We talk and think together all night long. It's like a book to me – the only book I ever learned to read; and many an old story it tells me. It's music, for I should know its voice among a thousand, and there are other voices in its roar. It has its pictures too. You don't know how many strange faces and different scenes I trace in the red-hot coals. It's my memory, that fire, and shows me all my life.

Every night,' said Mr. Peggotty, 'as reg'lar as the night comes, the candle must be stood in its old pane of glass, that if ever she should see it, it may seem to say, "Come back, my child, come back!

Your memory does me more honour than my insignificance deserves.

No man ever really loved a woman, lost her, and knew her with a blameless though an unchanged mind,

Because the memory of those who lie below, passes away so soon. At first they tend them, morning, noon, and night; they soon begin to come less frequently; from once a day, to once a week; from once a week to once a month; then, at long and uncertain intervals; then, not at all. Such tokens seldom flourish long. I have known the briefest summer flowers outlive them.

El recuerdo de lo que ha pasado me hace casi esperar que te duela. Pero al cabo de muy poco tiempo te olvidarás con alegría, como de un sueño improductivo del cual por fortuna despertaste. ¡Que seas feliz en la vida que has elegido!

Keep my memory green.

and were sacred to the memory of five little brothers of mine, who gave up trying to get a living, exceedingly early in that universal struggle. I am indebted for a belief I religiously entertained that they all had been born on their back with their hands in their trouser-pockets, and had never taken them out of existence.

The mother who lay in the grave, was the mother of my infancy; the little creature in her arms, was myself, as I had once been, hushed for ever on her bosom.

I wonder," said Mr. Lorry, pausing in his looking about, "that he keeps that reminder of his sufferings about him!" "And why wonder at that?" was the abrupt inquiry that made him start. It proceeded from Miss Pross, the wild red woman, strong of hand, whose acquaintance he had first made at the Royal George Hotel at Dover, and had since improved.

But the windows of the house of Memory, and the windows of the house of Mercy, are not so easily closed as windows of glass and wood. They fly open unexpectedly; they rattle in the night; they must be nailed up. Mr. The Englishman had tried nailing them, but had not driven the nails quite home. So he passed but a disturbed evening and a worse night.

Let me remember how it used to be, and bring one morning back again.

For now, the very breath of the beans and clover whispered to my heart that the day must come when it would be well for my memory that others walking in the sunshine should be softened as they thought of me.

Knitting Done XV. The Footsteps Die Out For Ever Book the First—Recalled

It was remembered afterwards that when he bent down and touched her face with his lips, he murmured some words. The child, who was nearest to him, told them afterwards, and told her grandchildren when she was a handsome old lady, that she heard him say, "A life you love.