Quotes About Memories

Jack or Donald marches away to glory with his knapsack on his shoulder, stepping out briskly to the tune of The Girl I left behind me. It is she who remains and suffers,-- and has the leisure to think, and brood and remember.

Every man, however brief or inglorious may have been his academical career, must remember with kindness and tenderness the old university comrades and days. The young man's life is just beginning: the boy's leading-strings are cut, and he has all the novel delights and dignities of freedom. He has no idea of cares yet, or of bad health, or of roguery, or poverty, or to-morrow's disappointment.

These are trivial details, but they relate to happy times.

It was over these few worthless papers that she brooded and brooded. She lived in her past life-every letter seemed to recall some circumstance of it. How well she remembered them all! His looks and tones, his dress, what he said and how-these relics and remembrances of dead affection were all that were left her in the world. And the business of her life, was-to watch the corpse of Love.

When you think that the eyes of your childhood dried at the sight of a piece of gingerbread, and that a plum cake was a compensation for the agony of parting with your mamma and sisters, oh my friend and brother, you need not be too confident of your own fine feelings.

If I had time and dared to enter into digressions, I would write a chapter about that first pint of porter drunk upon English ground. Ah, how good it is! It is worth-while to leave home for a year, just to enjoy that one draught.

Though my hair has grown grey now, and my sight dim, and my heart cold with years, and ennui, and disappointment, and treachery of friends, and yet I have but to lean back in my arm-chair and think, and those sweet figures comes rising up before me out of the past, with their smiles, and their kindnesses, and their bright tender eyes!

Let's talk of graves, of worms, and epitaphs; Make dust our paper and with rainy eyes Write sorrow on the bosom of the earth, Let's choose executors and talk of wills

I count myself in nothing else so happy as in a soul remembering my good Friends

It were a grief so brief to part with thee. Farewell.

But if the while I think on thee, dear friend, All losses are restored and sorrows end.

Grief fills the room up of my absent child, Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me, Puts on his pretty look, repeats his words, Remembers me of his gracious parts, Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form

He is dead and gone, lady, He is dead and gone; At his head a grass-green turf, At his heels a stone.

O,come,be buried A second time within these arms (They embrace)

For you and I are past our dancing days

Enough no more; Tis not so sweet now as it was before.

For thy sweet love remembr'd such wealth brings That then, I scorn to change my state with kings.

The setting sun, and music at the close, As the last taste of sweets, is sweetest last, Writ in remembrance more than things long past.

Friends, I owe more tears to this dead man than you shall see me pay —I shall find time, Cassius, I shall find time.

Anon, anon! I pray you, remember the porter.

You hold too heinous a respect of grief. CONSTANCE. He talks to me that never had a son. KING PHILIP. You are as fond of grief as of your child. CONSTANCE. Grief fills the room up of my absent child, Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me, Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words, Remembers me of all his gracious parts, Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form; Then have I reason to be fond of grief.

I was still in this state of being a little girl and thinking that this wonderful life so comfortable and safe and secure would continue forever. Mama

Is it best to know about a child's death, even one so horrible, or to know that the child lives but that you will never, never see him again?

I did not weep for the six million Jews or the two million Poles or the one million Serbs or the five million Russians -- I was unprepared to weep for all humanity -- but I did weep for these others who in one way or another had become dear to me, and my sobs made an unashamed racket across the abandoned beach