Quotes About Memories

It is a mournful task to break the sombre attachments of the past.

He had given Cosette a dress of Binche lace that had come down to him from his own grandmother. "These fashions have come round again," he said, "old things are all the rage, and the young women of my old age dress like the old women of my childhood

There is still a certain grace in a dead festival. It has been happy.

ViaÈ›a este pierderea neîntrerupt? a tot ce iubim.

La vie n'est qu'une longue perte de tout ce qu'on aime.

Sono questi gli effetti dell'amore, dell'infanzia, della gioventù, della gioia. La novità della terra e della vita c'entra per qualche cosa. Nulla è incantevole come il riflesso colorante della felicità sulla soffitta. Tutti abbiamo nel nostro passato una soffitta azzurra.

Everything looked charming to him now. Never again would he read these books, write on this little white wooden table!

Mais où sont les neiges d'antan? But where are the snows of years gone by?

A vida não passa de uma longa perda de tudo o que amamos.

Vous rappelez-vous notre douce vie, Lorsque nous étions si jeunes tous deux, Et que nous n'avions au coeur d'autre envie Que d'être bien mis et d'être amoureux! Lorsqu'en ajoutant votre âge à mon âge, Nous ne comptions pas à deux quarante ans, Et que, dans notre humble et petit ménage, Tout, même l'hiver, nous était printemps!

É por isso que me dou muito bem com ele. Ajeitou-se a todas as minhas rugas, não me incomoda nada, moldou-se a todas as minhas disformidades, é complacente com todos os meus movimentos; só o sinto porque me aquece. Os fatos velhos são como os velhos amigos.

This is what floats up confusedly, pell-mell, for the year 1817, and is now forgotten. History neglects nearly all these particulars, and cannot do otherwise; the infinity would overwhelm it.

Those are exactly the kind of memories I try to avoid, but they're like abestos: invisible and deadly. You need special gear to get rid of them.

Marah will come looking for me one day, Kate had said, pressing the journal into my hands. Be with her when she reads it. And my boys… show them these words when they can't remember me.

The father who went off to war was not the one who came home.

They hadn't loved each other enough in the time they had, and then time ran out.

To lose love is a terrible thing," Mom said softly. "But to turn away from it is unbearable. Will you spend the rest of your life replaying it in your head? Wondering if you walked away too soon or too easily? Or if you'll ever love anyone that deeply again?

She hadn't been where it mattered, making memories with her husband and children. Maybe she'd thought time was more elastic, or love more forgiving.

Love. Family. Laughter. That's what I remember when it's all said and done. For so much of my life I thought I didn't do enough or want enough. I guess I can be forgiven for my stupidity. I was young. I want my children to know how proud I am of them, and how proud I am of me. We were everything we needed—you and Daddy

This is what my story gave them, and in the past ten years, we have loved enough for a lifetime. I think, Good-bye, my girls. I love you. I have always loved you. And I go.

People left, and if you loved too deeply, too fiercely, their swift and sudden absence could chill you to the soul.

Leni was pretty sure that, to her, childhood would always smell like sea air and cigarette smoke and her mother's rose-scented perfume.

Memories are who we are, Tul. In the end, that's all the luggage you take with you. Love and memories are what last. That's why your life flashes before your eyes when you die—you're picking the memories you want. It's like packing.

I look at him, loving this child of mine and knowing my death will devastate him. I don't want him to watch me die by degrees. I don't want that for his daughters, either. I know what it is like; some images, once seen, can never be forgotten. I want them to remember me as I am, not as I will be when the cancer has had its way.