Quotes About Memories

There's an old saying that if you come back to the place where you became a man, you will remember all those things you need to be happy... That saying never made sense to me, but I thought it was worth a try.

But the town was Shelltown and Shelltown is now Ellisdale, a crossroads village near by with old houses of its own. Close by, too, is Arneytown, sinking among memories of the past, its Quaker meeting-house taken down and its red brick smithy closed. But Waln's Mill was apart from even these.

She pondered: Was it worth the feelings of sadness and melancholy to make a friend and then lose him? Would she rather not have the heartache of losing a friend and not have the memory of friendship? No, she decided, no.

Even the death of friends will inspire us as much as their lives…. Their memories will be encrusted over with sublime and pleasing thoughts, as monuments of other men are overgrown with moss; for our friends have no place in the graveyard.

Le bonheur est comme l'été : il n'irradie pas. Rien à attendre de son souvenir pour les jours où nous aurons froid. - Il y a des sensations qui écrivent en lettres ineffaçables. Le bonheur écrit blanc.

You will find, as you look back upon your life, that the moments that stand out, the moments when you have really lived, are the moments when you have done things in a spirit of love. As memory scans the past, above and beyond all the transitory pleasures of life there leap forward those supreme hours when you have been enabled to do unnoticed kindnesses to those round about you, things too trifling to speak about, but which you feel have entered into your eternal life.

Oh, I wish Daddy could be here right now! You can't ever lose your talent, he used to tell me. Once you're born with talent, you have it all your life long. You can lose money, youth and looks, but——You want to see the pictures?" In

There are three things that grow more precious with age; old wood to burn, old books to read, and old friends to enjoy.

Vietnam was what we had instead of happy childhoods.

Do you think now and then, now or then, in the whirl Of the city, while London is new, Of the hut in the Bush, and the freckled-faced girl Who is eating her heart out for you?

A man always remembers his first love with special tenderness, but after that he begins to bunch them.

The idea that my sucker is moving through thought itself, through emotion and reason, that memories, dreams and reflections should consist of jelly, is simply too strange to understand.

I will be missed after my death, but I will miss nothing.

How memories lie to us. How time coats the ordinary with gold. How it breaks the heart to go back and attempt to re-live them. How crushed we are when we discover that the gold was merely gold-plating thinly coated over lead, chalk and peeling paint.

I'm packed with broken glass and memories and it all hurts.

It's sad when someone you know becomes someone you knew.

I used to love you I still do So Selfish I love the old you The you that didnt shoot drugs ...The you that didnt get beat on by men You laugh in my face and call me a fool But its true I still love you Sometimes,I can see the old you When your eyes flash When you almost look alive

No magic. I do believe you might have taken it all with you when you went away.

I cling to my memories of glorious desperation.

Have you ever experienced something so great That years later you regretted the whole thing Seeing the hole it left in you?

There are a few things that are mine. I see this now. Like today, sitting in this diner. This time is mine. These thoughts are mine. Memories are mine. I don't own much. It's nice to know that there are some things that no one will be able to take from me.

I met a woman around the corner from the hotel who owns a bar on Essex. We talked for awhile. She used to see Johnny Thunders play whenever she could. She said that sometimes he was too messed up to do the show and the venue would kick him out. She and her friends would sit with him outside and he would play for them. Can you imagine?! That's a quintessential NYC experience. It's what makes this city so great.

Grave Alice, and laughing Allegra,And Edith with golden hair.

Good-night! good-night! as we so oft have said Beneath this roof at midnight, in the days That are no more, and shall no more return. Thou hast but taken up thy lamp and gone to bed; I stay a little longer, as one stays To cover up the embers that still burn.