Quotes About Memories

You have a lifetime to work, but children are only young once.

I am thankful for the mess to clean after a party because it means I have been surrounded by friends.

#WhenIWasYourAge: It took a week to learn whether your photos came out okay.

Photographs are wordless history.

A true scrapbook addict is one who stages photographs to match paper she likes.

Scrapbooking is cheaper than a therapist.

Just as pieces of material stitched together in a quilt warm our bodies, scrapbooks bind together memories to warm our hearts.

How hard it is to escape from places. However carefully one goes they hold you — you leave little bits of yourself fluttering on the fences — little rags and shreds of your very life.

Pressure cranks and presses Life, squeezing out essence of self, aromatic with bittersweet memories, pungent adversities, and the honey-musk of desire — vapors hover over our inkpots, and if we are willing and able to pick up the feather, it becomes our poetry.

I look back on it as if through rainbows, the bit of sunshine hers, the tears my own.

The most beautiful antiques are not found in stores.

The Summer's gone, — how did it go?

A sister shares childhood memories and grown-up dreams.

I never smoked a cigarette until I was nine.

There is hardly an American male of my generation who has not at one time or another tried to master the victory cry of the great ape as it issued from the androgynous chest of Johnny Weissmuller, to the accompaniment of thousands of arms and legs snapping during attempts to swing from tree to tree in the backyards of the Republic.

There is a simple life, a life in solitude, which I had grown unused to. Eating bread at a wooden table, gathering up the crumbs and tossing them to the sparrows. Slowly peeling an apple with a pocketknife and realizing that this gesture exactly re-creates your father's gesture, which re-creates the gesture of your grandfather's. The place is not the same, nor the time, nor the hand. But the gesture remembers.

Cheers to the that, I love college

Still, it is like a long hopeless homesickness my missing those young days. To me, they're like my own place that I have gone away from forever, and I have lived all the time since among great pleasures but in a foreign town. Well, O.K. Farewell, certain years.

Edie didn't budge. She leaned her chin on her knees and felt sad. She was a big reader too, but she liked THE BOBBSEY TWINS or HONEY BUNCH AT THE SEASHORE. She loved that nice family life. She tried to live it in the three rooms on the fourth floor. Sometimes she called her father Dad, or even Father, which surprised him. Who? he asked.

Not because she read my name on an anonymous posting board, but because I was in Paris and had seen Moulin Rouge far too many times to let such an opportunity go to waste.

When my daughter was born, we videotaped the birth. Now when she makes me angry, I just hit rewind and put her back in.

produce an entire album, which became The Place I Love.

Like I say, this house is far too big for me anyway, and maybe it'll do my head good to get away from the memories of your Ma. Sometimes I still think that she's upstairs, in bed, and I have to go up just to make sure that she's not.' He paused, and then he said, almost inaudibly, 'She never is.

In my work you often get an abrupt shift in time, a jolt. But the emotional logic will take the reader on. I hope. I trust. After all, our memories do not work with any sequential logic.