Quotes About Memories

When most people think about the future, they dream up ways that they might live happier lives. But notice this phenomenon. When people remember the crucial events that formed them, they don't usually talk about happiness. It is usually the ordeals that seem most significant. Most people shoot for happiness but feel formed through suffering.

Memories are like that. They live between synapses and between the people who hold them. Memories, even epic ones, are perishable from their very formation even in people who don't soak their brains in mood-altering chemicals.

My mom used to take me down to the Jersey Shore when I was 7 8, 9 years old. I can remember being down in that area - Belmar, Seaside Heights, Asbury Park and all those places that I went back and revisited.

My dad left when I was 3 1/2, and he left my mom and I.

Expected or unexpected, womb memories bear all the markings of the human spirit already engaging in the challenges that life brings.

So quiet that house was in the night, so quiet all the other little homes around it were that held the elderly in them and the old alone or still in couples sleeping early, waking, lying awake and thinking about the past. So much past every night in the silence settling over those houses that all looked much the same on a hillside creeping up against the rock and gorse and tipping down to the river where it widened, widened and ended in the sea.

Do you know what I miss most about Rosemary? Simply knowing she was there.

Is it my birthday again? Already? Where does the time go?" "Behind us --or in front. It depends on which way you are looking.

The delta blues is a low-down, dirty shame blues. It's a sad, big wide sound, something to make you think about people who are dead or the women who left you.

When I was a wee lad, Uncle Dickie sat me on his knee, and regaled me with stories about the genesis of a game that involved trying to jam a ball into a hole in the ground with a stick

Cela fini toujours ainsi, par les souvenirs. On pourrait croire que tout va s'arranger.

Se revoir ainsi après plusieurs années, c'est comme un premier rendez-vous.

Pour trouver le sommeil, elle parcours ses souvenirs. C'est le seul endroit où demeure la tendresse. [...] Le yeux fermés, elle voyage à travers la beauté.

Aquel que vive razonando termina por sentir desprecio en su alma hacia los humanos; aquel que vive atormentado por el fantasma se lo ido no alimenta ilusiones, por los recuerdos abrumado; imprime esto a menudo un gran encanto a las charlas.

M?lest?ba tevi pamet, neko nepaskaidrojot, un p?rdz?vojumi paliek tikai fotogr?fij?s. S?kum? dz?ve divat? š?ita tik daudzsološa, bet beig?s porcel?ns saš??st drumsl?s un lauskas griež l?dz asin?m... Un tur neko nevar dar?t, jo t?da ir b?goš? m?la.

Run?, ka pirms n?ves cilv?ka acu priekš? aizsl?d visi vi?a dz?ves skaist?kie mirk?i. Tikpat labi var gad?ties,ka visi pag?tnes neveiksmju un izmisuma mirk?i atgriežas apzi?? tieši tad, kad cilv?kam ac?s, atkl?jot savu satraucoš?ko smaidu, beidzot ieskat?s laime.

There are now little brass plaques on the ground outside this address. These are Stolpersteine. Tributes to the victims of the Holocaust. There are many of them in Berlin, especially in Charlottenburg. They are not easy to spot. You must walk with your head down, seeking memories between the cobblestones. In front of 15 Wielandstrasse, three names can be read. Paula, Albert, and Charlotte. But on the wall, there is only one commemorative plaque. The one for Charlotte Salomon.

L`essentiel, c`est que ces mots aient été écrits. Le reste n`a pas d`importance. Nous ne devons pas laisser de preuves aux chiens. Il faut ranger nos livres et nous souvenirs en nous.

L`essentiel, c`est que ces mots aient été écrits. Le reste n`a pas d`importance. Nous ne devons pas laisser de preuves aux chiens. Il faut ranger nos livres et nos souvenirs en nous.

La vida son sobre todo momentos de borrones, tachones y espacios en blanco.

Según él, era como si una chica te abandonaba y tenías que cruzarte con ella a diario.

Au début d'une relation, on pourrait presque analyser chaque baiser. Tout se détache parfaitement dans une mémoire qui lentement progresse dans la confusion de la répétition.

Je pense à Iris qui fut importante tout de même, à Emilie aussi, à Céline bien sûr, et puis d'autres prénoms dans d'autres pénombres, mais c'est Alice, toujours Alice qui est là, immuable, avec encore des rires au-dessus de nos têtes, comme si le premier amour était une condamnation à perpétuité.

I have memories — but only a fool stores his past in the future.