Quotes About Memories

All the June Saturday afternoon Sam Pollit's children were on the lookout for him as they skated round the dirt sidewalks and seamed old asphalt of R Street and Reservoir Road that bounded the deep-grassed acres of Tohoga House, their home.

We never can just stop time. Or take moments back. Life doesn't work that way, does it?

I look at you, and I see the most beautiful woman on the face of the earth. Inside and out you are beautiful. I know you better than anyone else could ever know you, because I can see into your thoughts and read your memories. The very light in you, our tremendous capacity for loving, humbles me.

Here's to many more firsts and many more great memories.

Listen, Sebastian, he whispered. That beautiful sound belongs to us for the rest for our lives. That's your mother. She's sunshine. No matter what happens in our lives, we have that.

It was dangerous to go back, at least for him, to even think of those days when he was too young and had no way to save the dying. He could only whisper to them, tell them not to be afraid, and that someday, he would avenge them.

She laughed easily, that was one of the things he remembered most. Her laughter. The sound of it. The way she turned everything bad into something good.

Her heart was so full, she was afraid it might burst. She had never dared to dream she would have a home and a family. She had never conceived of having friends. Life might never be perfect, but she had Nicolae, and he would always understand those terrible moments when the memories crept out from behind the doors in her mind. He would be there to hold her and help her.

Sandu was well aware love started in one's mind. It stayed there. Good times, bad times, if you wanted that love to remain alive, you had to keep it forever safe in the mind.

The past wouldn't let her go, not her love for him and not her memories of his betrayal. "I remember." She choked out the words against his throat. "Can you hear me screaming in pain? Can you, Sasha? It's so deep I can't ever get it out and it's locked inside me forever." He crushed her to him. "Yes. I'm screaming too." He held her, staying to the shadows, his face buried in her silken hair.

I can't believe I started this early. She's barely two, Gregori said. I was your friend, you maniac, Mikhail told him. We got in so much trouble together, and you were always the instigator. Even at two. Don't believe him, Gregori said.

The past was yesterday, and yesterday had ended last night.

There are no shared memories anymore. Now, now there's twitter and email and Facebook and cable and satellite

We never came to Oxford Street as kids,' Bryant continued. 'My brother and I used to head to Holborn with our mother to visit the Father Christmas at Gamages department store. I loved that place. You would get into a rocket ship or a paddle steamer and step off in Santa's grotto. That building was a palace of childhood magic. I still can't believe they pulled it down.

How simple things had been, once upon a time. In the era when children still played with Raggedy Ann, life had been so uncomplicated. Or at least it seemed that way. Though he knew, of course, that the past had its share of pain and ugliness.

For me, to remember friendship is to recall those conversations that it seemed a sin to break off: the ones that made the sacrifice of the following day a trivial one.

A melancholy lesson of advancing years is the realisation that you can't make old friends.

To remember friendship is to recall those conversations that it seemed a sin to break off

But George is getting old. Won't it very soon be too late? Never use those words to George. He won't listen. He daren't listen. Damn the future. Let Kenny and the kids have it. Let Charley keep the past. George clings only to Now. It is Now that he must find another Jim. Now that he must love. Now that he must live....

This bright place isn't really a sanctuary. For, ambushed among its bottles and cartons and cans, are shockingly vivid memories of meals shopped for, cooked, eaten with Jim. They stab out at George as he passes, pushing his shopping cart. Should we ever feel truly lonely if we never ate alone?

From 1929 to 1933, [age 25-29] I lived almost continuously in Berlin, with only occasional visits to other parts of Germany and to England. Already, during that time, I had made up my mind that I would one day write about the people I'd met and the experiences I was having. So I kept a detailed diary, which in due course provided raw material for all my Berlin stories. [from preface]

Osje?ate ih sve oko sebe, kako no?as pužu prema gradu, kao ogromna pustoš neprijatnog okeana — osuti gredicama bez liš?a i zale?enim jezerima i sitnim selima koja ostaju u sje?anju samo po neobi?nim imenima bojišta iz poluzaboravljenih ratova.

I mean, I'm not naive enough to imagine that anyone can be satisfied indefinitely by memories, especially if he's young and full of life, like you. I did my best to help you build up a reserve to keep going on.

The past anchors us, cousin. It gives us a place to stand. You can't hide from it because it hurts. That pain tells you who you are. It demands recognition.