Quotes About Memories

Wouldn't it be well to give some of your bouquets before a man dies, and not go and load down his coffin? He can't enjoy them then.

I don't like to leave anything,' the man said. 'I don't like to leave things behind.

Happy is he who still loves something he loved in the nursery: He has not been broken in two by time; he is not two men, but one, and he has saved not only his soul but his life.

Just as the child is father to the man, so the impressions of one's youth remain the most vivid in manhood.

I'm at a loss because I am in love with a man who is standing before me with no memories of me at all. (Time Traveler's Wife)

It goes back to a style of moviemaking I remember seeing as a child, in movies like The Man With The Golden Arm, which I think was shot all on a sound stage.

There's no beauty without poignancy and there's no poignancy without the feeling that it's going, men, names, books, houses--bound for dust--mortal--

Every man has some reminiscences which he would not tell to everyone, but only to his friends.

Time doesn't take away from friendship, nor does separation.

Time doesn't take away from friendship, nor does separation.

Stalin is dead! Stalin is dead! No school today!" we yelled. "Stalin is dead! No school today..." was a chant to linger in my ears for years to come.

Hence these tears.

Where were you when my heart was breaking? Will you scream out my name when I am dead and gone?

Tanta juventud gozándose en sí misma, abrazados sobre la cama y yo con mi uniforme de niña de las monjas, moviéndome sobre tu cuerpo enfundado en un pantalón blanco, llenándonos de besos cuando todo estaba comenzando.

de esos vagones de trocha angosta que usaban los Ferrocarriles del Estado para viajes cortos, como ella solía recordarlos, entre La Serena y Vicuña, un camino con cuestas empinadas y túneles que oscurecían el carro por apenas segundos. Los

Love isn't a burst o' trumpets and a flock o' doves descendin' out o' the heavens to roost on yer heads. Tis sharin' a cup o' tea by the hearth on a cold winter's night. 'Tis the look in yer husband's eyes when ye lay yer first child in his arms. Tis the ache in yer heart when ye watch the light in his eyes dim fer the last time, and know a part o' ye has gone out o' this world with him...

We're all haunted in one way or another, are we not? If not by spirits, then by our own demons and regrets.

I had the best of both worlds when I was a kid. I'd spend a quiet week with my mum, then I'd go to my dad's property in the Adelaide Hills, where there were all these kids and animals running around.

As a child our dreams got scattered all about and all our future prospects got scattered to so many places, and we spend our lives trying to find the little pieces that make up our lives and make up the dreams that we had as a child that got blown away in the windstorm.

I could always accept not being the prettiest or the smartest Because I had the best of friends. A and A they called us. But, Anna, somehow, I failed you. And now I've lost the best part of Me.

Those we love and lose are always connected by heartstrings into infinity.

Life is a rough biography. Memories smooth out the edges.

Adulthood is when the ghosts of childhood appear.

Age swallows our childhood.