Quotes About Memories

Dear Sweetheart, do you ever think of me? Just the other day I was thinking of you. I'm pretty sure it was you.

I'm not leaving something for you. I'm leaving something in you.

The point is not the fishing . . . the point is the kid.

I'm not leaving something for you. I'm leaving something in you." I didn't like the way that sounded.

It also produced a painful longing to hear his voice just one more time.

Writes over the old memories. Makes beauty out of pain. Love writes what can be.

Anytime you start singing Johnny Cash, you're walking on hallowed ground.

Memories surfaced and flashed before my mind's eye—the hospital, tear stained nights, never-ending days, loneliness so deep I thought I would drown—and maybe sometimes I wanted to. I flung open the doors of my mind, dug them out of their holes where I'd hidden them from Maggie, and pretty soon ten pads turned into twenty, and all the beauty and wonder—and yes, even ugliness—of my life stared back at me. The mirror told no lies.

I stood knee-deep as the waves crashed into my legs. I'll never forget the power. It took my breath away. Unc did that too. And then he gave it back.

The brown bag, of course, had its imperfections. While some kids carried roast beef sandwiches, others had peanut butter. I have no way of knowing if all of those brown bags contained 'nutritionally adequate diets.' But I do know that those brown bags and those lunch pails symbolized parental love and responsibility.

In another world,' he said, lowering his voice; I remember... was it not in another world, in a life which was not in thrall to sleep and its phantoms?...

Lucille Biggers Langford and Florence Mabry Whiteside. As the

I cannot even imagine where I would be today were it not for that handful of friends who have given me a heart full of joy. Let's face it, friends make life a lot more fun.

Each day of our lives we make deposits in the memory banks of our children.

The west is dead. You may lose a sweetheart but you never forget her.

He won't tell me very much about his war. None of us do. It isn't something to share, you see. What we've seen, what we've done, ought to stay in France. But it didn't, it came home in our memories. They aren't memories we want you to know. You are the world we fought for. Safe and sane and not ugly. Better to keep it that way.

He added in typical Patton style, "There is one thing you men will be able to say when you go home. You may all thank God that 30 years from now when you are sitting with your grandson upon your knees and he asks: 'Grandfather, what did you do in World War II?' you won't have to say, 'I shovelled s**t in Louisiana!

Go, forget me - why should sorrow, O'er that brow a shadow fling? Go, forget me - and tomorrow, brightly smile and sweetly sing. Smile - though I shall not be near thee Sing - though I shall never hear thee.

There are a few years when you make almost all of your important memories. And then you spend the next few decades reliving them.

My father built a time machine and then he spent his whole life trying to figure out how to use it to get more time. He spent all the time he had with us thinking about how he wished he had more time, if he could only have more time.

There are a few years where you make almost all of your important memories. And then you spend the next few decades reliving them.

right at that moment, the first times start turning into last times, as in, last first day of school, last time he crawls into bed with us, last time you'll all sleep together like this, the three of you. There are a few years when you make almost all of your important memories. And then you spend the next few decades reliving them.

Time is a machine; it will convert your pain into experience.

If you're not careful, time will take away everything that ever hurt you, everything you have ever lost, and replace it with knowledge. Time is a machine: it will convert your pain into experience.