Quotes About Memories

Let us live always as we live now, and let us not abandon the names that we have given each other in our first love. … You and I must always remain young, and you shall always be beautiful to me. We must keep no count of the years.

Quando tutto ti ricorda qualche altro posto è segno che stai viaggiando da troppo tempo.

Tea chests full of the rotting correspondence of the parents Busner had never know, their serrated postcards, their now blotched but once creamy notepaper folded into thick envelopes that had been extravagantly franked and stamped. All of it he had foreseen himself unpacking, unsheathing and unfolding, so that the pressed flowers bloomed into dust as he read the missives for the first time since their long-gone recipients set the sheets to one side.

That was my best hat and it was attached to my best head.

Such, such were the joys When we all -- girls and boys -- In our youth-time were seen On the echoing Green.

I felt truly happy for the first time in years. Such moments should be logged and noted.

When I think of my youth, he went in, what we took for granted, what we assumed was for ever certain, for ever permanent.

Looking over the beach and the ocean as the sun begins to drop down in the west, a strange sense of pride: pride in all I've done and lived through, proud to think of the thousands of people I've met and known and the few I've loved.

I don't have many photographs of myself – a trait common to most professional photographers

I thought about the times we'd had in his small garret above Greville's darkroom. And I didn't feel anything. It's strange how strong emotions can be so easily diminished as your life continues; how deepest intimacies become commonplace half-recalled memories-- such as an exotic holiday you once went on, or a cocktail party where you drank far too much, or winning a race at the school sports day. Nothing stirs anymore.

Time passes and pisses on us all.

In hours of bliss we oft have met: They could not always last; And though the present I regret, I'm grateful for the past.

When I was a boy I first learned how much better water tastes when it has set a while in a cedar bucket. Warmish-cool, with a faint taste like the hot July wind in Cedar trees smells.

Caddy put her arms around me, and her shining veil, and I couldn't smell trees anymore and I began to cry.

When he saw the River again he knew it at once. He should have; it was now ineradicably a part of his past, his life; it would be a part of what he would bequeath, if that were in store for him.

She died in one of the downstairs rooms, in a heavy walnut bed with a curtain, her gray head propped on a pillow yellow and moldy with age and lack of sunlight.

Ay, grief goes, fades; we know that–but ask the tear ducts if they have forgotten how to weep.

old General Compson had gone to his fathers at last—or to whatever bivouac old soldiers of that war, blue or gray either, probably insisted on going to since probably no place would suit them for anything resembling a permanent stay —

the persistent nostalgia that infected most surfers, even young ones - the notion that it was always better yesterday, and better still the day before.

If we all but had twenty-four hours more to live, what would we do? And for nearly all, the answer was 'Spend it with the ones I love.

He was seized with longing so intense it ached in his chest, he wanted it always to keep, to drag out secretly and study it like a yellowed photograph, and he thought I am home, this is me, this is where I have been rambling down to all these years.

When you raise the dead, they bring their baggage.

Noches que con gran cuidado eliminaste de la desordenada baraja de tu pasado

the smell of her grandfather's fifty years of National Geographic, shelved in the hall. Downstairs