Quotes About Memories

This morning he had leapt onto my bed and pressed his nose against mine. "Good morning," he'd said. I remembered the heat of him against my skin.

I'm made of memories

when he was gone would i be like achilles, wailing over his lost lover patroclus? i tried to picture myself running up and down the beaches, tearing at my hair, cradling some scrap of old tunic he had left behind. crying out for the loss of half my soul

A silence, in which I felt him moving deep among his memories.

Idylle hatte ich unsere gemeinsame Zeit bezeichnet. Illusion hätte es vielleicht besser getroffen.

This, and this and this and this.

pero los recuerdos estaban hechos de aire, y sus rastros se habian borrado.

We are all made of memories

Estoy hecho de recuerdos I am made of memories

Her mouth tightens. "Have you no more memories?" I am made of memories. "Speak, then.

Él mismo se encarga de recoger mis cenizas, incluso aunque eso sea tarea de mujeres. Las guarda en una urna dorada, la mejor de todo el campamento, y se vuelve a los griegos que le observan. —Os encomiendo una misión para después de mi muerte: mezclar nuestras cenizas y enterrarnos juntos.

And perhaps it is the greater grief, after all, to be left on earth when another is gone

Evoco il ragazzo che conoscevo. Achille che sogghigna mentre i fichi diventano una macchia sfocata tra le sue mani. Gli occhi verdi che ridono nei miei. Prendi, dice. Achille, che si staglia contro il cielo, aggrappato a un ramo sopra il fiume. Il denso calore del suo respiro assonnato contro il mio orecchio:

Have you no more memories?'

I am made of memories" Patroclus - The song of Achilles

Things were a lot simpler in Detroit. I didn't care about anything but boyfriends.

Then there is my current reality, the smells that are constants in my life: lemon slices and fresh ginger, the sharp tannin and milky contrast of builder's tea, and the slightly sickly green scent of freshly cut flower stems. And not forgetting the classic ingredients of the chypre base of so many of my favorite perfumes- bergamot, oakmoss, patchouli and labdanum (rock rose)- which I'm finding so reassuring in this time of transition.

She knew what the Barbour aftershave would make her think of, and of course it did with its forest violets and cinnamon bark.

As well as sniffing my mum's precious bottles, I loved squirting the perfume onto myself, so from a very young age I walked around in a rather overpowering haze of scent. My father started calling me Fragrant Cloud, after his favorite rose- hence the name of this blog.

My Easter smells are the cinnamon and mixed spices in the hot cross buns, and the rosemary and mint sauce with the roast lamb. The grassy tang of rhubarb and real muddy wet grass from the egg rolling. And of course, lots and lots of milk chocolate. My scents for Easter are: Angel by Thierry Mugler Anima Dulcis by Arquiste Musc Maori by Parfumerie Générale Blue North by Agonist Opium by Yves Saint Laurent English Pear & Freesia by Jo Malone London La Tulipe by Byredo

I suppose it is possible that one day we will meet again and it will feel as if nothing ever happened between us.

The people who teach us something retain a particularly vivid place in our memories.

That's because they're of the past. All photos of the past look melancholy and wistful precisely because they capture something that's gone.

She glanced up to see that her mother was doing the same and she wanted to say, Do you think of her, do you still catch yourself listening for her footsteps, for her voice, for the sound of her breathing at night, because I do, all the time. I still think that one day I might wake and she will be there, next to me, again; there will have been some wrinkle or pleat in time and we will be back to where we were, when she was living and breathing.