Quotes About Memories

I went to the University of South Florida for five and a half years. Then I sobered up, got dressed, and went home. They still have my earrings.

I know what it feels like to miss everything about him--the way he smells, the way his mouth curls up when he laughs, his voice.

So yeah, maybe this will be the rest of our lives. Pot roast and Diet Cokes and my parents making eyes at each other. As for those slaps and punches and hateful words, we'll just sweep those under the rug or wherever they can go.

But special people tend to go and do special things," he continued, "and one must accept it as best one can. Whenever I miss old friends, I remind myself that this very act makes them a part of my life. We may be separated by time and distance, and very often by the lack of hours to write each other proper letters, but we remain friends, and I remain grateful.

I miss those days, don't you? I mean, except for the terrible parts.

Daddy, will you take me to the mill, again?

When I was growing up in New Jersey, my mom would regularly take my sister and I into the city to see shows. I have many fond memories of standing in the half-price ticket line in Times Square and going to matinees.

Saying goodbye doesn't mean anything. It's the time we spent together that matters, not how we left it.

You don't want to look back at your years with regrets. Regrets have no place in your memory jar.

For so long, she'd taken her memories of Patty - the memories they'd created together - and held them outside of herself, protecting herself from the pain of carrying them deep within. It was as if she carried all the memories in her jars. But if doing so, it was as if she'd also kept everyone else - those still in her life - at arm's length too.

from the shelf. Ben's stomach churned as he pulled out Cat in the Hat and Green Eggs and Ham. Kenzie would enjoy them, but had Marianna ever read those books before? Not that Dr. Seuss was literature. What

Two of the common elements in alien abduction scenarios are missing time and screen memories.

It's cool when your husband starts to sing some old Merle Haggard song and I can pop in with a harmony and it doesn't sound too bad.

When I was still a piccanin she tutuzela'd me on her back, a back-to-front kangaroo. Snug in the hollow of her back, I felt her humming and singing seep into me." (from "Blood Orange: A Novel" by Troy Blacklaws)

Hello, Ben. I'm your cousin Jacen." "I know you." You went away when I was two. Did you find it? "Some of it" "So you're going back?" "No. What I haven't found, I doubt I ever will." ?Jacen and Ben

When I am with my mother's people, I realize I have a lot to unlearn. I look to them to uncomplicated my notions of Tibet and Tibetans. They know where they are from; they live on the land. This assurance does not come in the same way to those of us in exile who experience a lack of certainty for is it not from the land that we get a sense of stability? Those of us born in exile inherit Tibet by inhabiting the memories of our elders.

As a child I experienced loss for what I felt was withheld from me: the delicious milk, the mountains of flowers I could not roll in, the cousins I could not play with, a beautiful house on a plateau. As the years grew with me, I became aware of absences that impacted me directly and indirectly: the loss of place, of stories, of family and of citizenship.

They say that memories fade with time but I don't believe that's true. You carry them with you like stones in your pocket. Sometimes when it's quiet you take them out and roll them between your fingers. Then you put them back in your pocket, safe again. You don't leave them behind.

But friends didn't wipe other friends' memories.

back before both his father and Char had died from the weird sickness that swept the palace a few years ago.

I was only a little older than Bumblebee when I named her! I'd like to see you come up with a better name at that age!" "Wordibird," Bumblebee said sleepily from her sling, and Cricket laughed again.

We'll probably never see him again.

Winter — I want to go home.

God, I remember when cappuccino was a delicacy.