Quotes About Memories

I love to be reminded of the past, Edward – whether it be melancholy or gay, I love to recall it.

As reflexões deviam ser reservadas para as horas solitárias; sempre que podia, entregava-se a elas com alívio; e não se passava um dia sem uma de suas caminhadas, nas quais podia se entregar ao prazer das lembranças desagradáveis.

when pain is over, the remembrance of it often becomes a pleasure. One does not love a place the less for having suffered in

Very true indeed, my dears, but you are blessed with wonderful memories, and your poor cousin has probably none at all.

with a mind so occupied, she might have forgotten where she was. Reflection must be reserved for solitary hours; whenever she was alone, she gave way to it as the greatest relief; and not a day went by without a solitary walk, in which she might indulge in all the delight of unpleasant recollections.

Painful recollections will intrude which cannot, which ought not, to be repelled.

Te peate natuke minu elufilosoofiast õppust võtma. Meenutage minevikku ainult sedavõrd, kui see rõõmu pakub.»

I was sixteen years old when you were born.

GândeÅŸte-te la trecut numai în m?sura în care amintirea lui îÅ£i aduce bucurie.

You don't really get over it. It is such a great loss," Jane said. "I guess the depth of our grief is a reminder of the depth of our love.

Once the intimacy has gone, however well you may get on, however friendly you may become, it is hard to believe it was ever there.

It doesn't matter how many years go by, how grown-up we think we are, how much we presume we have changed or evolved, when we are back in our childhood homes, we become exactly who we have always been.

Forever feels a long time when you're eighteen. When you're away from home for the first time in your life, when you forge instant friendships that are so strong they are destined, surely, to be with you until the bitter end.

That's the mark of true friends. That we might not see each other for a year but when we do it's as if we were never apart.

It just feels surreal. Every now and then it kind of hits me, but only for a short while, and then it carries on feeling like it didn't really happen, that he's going to walk in this evening and sit in front of the set drinking beer.

It doesn't matter how many years go by, how grown-up we think we are, how much we presume we have changed or evolved, when we are back in our childhood homes, we become exactly who we have always been

But even though I felt her presence, I also felt the habitual fruitlessness of thinking about her. Her images, partly memories of her, partly memories of photos I had seen of her, yielded no new answers to old mysteries.

It was one of life's treats, wasn't it, paying a visit to your past, swinging like a ball on a string away from the person you loved, always knowing that the string must pull you back, and you would be oh so glad to get there.

It was one of life's treats, wasn't it, paying a visit to your past, swinging like a ball on a string away from the person you loved, always knowing that the string must pull you back, and you would be oh so glad to get there.

I had been with my father so constantly for so long that I knew less and less about him with every passing year. Every meaningful image was jumbled together with the countless moments of our daily life defeating my efforts to gain some perspective.

Upstairs, in the cupboard, he had a box of things he had saved as a boy and a young man. He hadn't looked into it in twenty years or more. Nothing fancy or valuable, but things that had meant something to him at one time. He found it, and found the key, and carried it downstairs without opening it.

Hmm, What did I love? I think all the scents. Mama's lilac trees, and the wild iris in the fields, and rain on the breeze on a hot day. Apple and pear blossoms. The hay just cut. The mix of odors in the barn when the sunlight was shafting through the cracks in the boards, heating everything up.

Holiday Association.

This was the way it was going to be then, this road she was going to have to walk. She would always be thinking of him so that he would be beside her even when he wasn't there, making her joyous or miserable, but always, always controlling the colour of her days.