Quotes About Memories

So we troop out to the coast, and every time we meet someone from back home we fall on their necks and weep. Stupid, eh? Neither of them think it is stupid. You Can't Go Home Again, said Thomas Wolfe. Morag wonders now if it may be the reverse which is true. You have to go home again, in some way or other.

Life is a storeroom filled with boxes, some empty, some misplaced forever. We're what remains, what we've grabbed hold of.

She loved him, even though it was so hard to love anybody else after loving my dad. I think I knew this before she did.

I was never one to patiently pick up broken fragments and glue them together again and tell myself that the mended whole was as good as new. What is broken is broken - and I'd rather remember it as it was at its best than mend it and see the broken places as long as I lived.

Perhaps - I want the old days back again and they'll never come back, and I am haunted by the memory of them and of the world falling about my ears.

I was never one to patiently pick up broken fragments and glue them together again and tell myself that the mended whole was as good as new. What is broken is broken - and I'd rather remember it as it was at its best than mend it and see the broken places as long as I lived.

Christmas is a day of meaning and traditions, a special day spent in the warm circle of family and friends.

The poetry of a people comes from the deep recesses of the unconscious, the irrational and the collective body of our ancestral memories.

The poetry of a people comes from the deep recesses of the unconscious, the irrational and the collective body of our ancestral memories. ------ The Word of fire burns today On the lips of our prophets in an evil age.

No.' He spoke with a tenderness unexpected in him. 'No, lady, no. Put that clean out of your mind. That dear chap and his dog have gone, gone where the dear chaps do go, gone with a few I knew. You've got your own life and you go and live it and make a do of it, as no doubt he'd like you to. Now

When you go to her house, look round you. You'll find it full of knick-knacks, every single one of which has been treasured by someone.' He blinked and, lowering his head, looked at Picot with wide serious eyes. 'Whenever I see them they look to me like petrified morsels hacked out of living pain,' he said gravely.

Her last glimpse of them was as they stood waving vigorously -- Mr. Meare to the left, his wife to the right; it had to be thus, because they were also hand-in-hand.

With her heels kicking the stone's side high above the ground, Branza was a girl again, though she was full-grown long ago; though the years had accumulated behind her in their great pointless pile.

him. They raised their glasses, and Valentine said a few more

I was willing to yield to nostalgia, that melancholy residue of desire.

Anything and everything made her think about him. He was so much a part of her, embedded in her soul. [Mina and Diego]

I took up the letter. On seeing the first line I knew it directly, but could not hold back from reading the whole thing, not once but many times, for it was the only love letter I had received in my life.

Whenever I have friends over, we end up eating and talking and losing track of time, and, once in a while, singing karaoke. It reminds me of the family meals we had in Russia, which always lasted a very long time. That's a tradition I miss.

Everyone grieves in different ways. For some, it could take longer or shorter. I do know it never disappears. An ember still smolders inside me. Most days, I don't notice it, but, out of the blue, it'll flare to life.

life is made up of memories. That your memories are the story of your past." He kissed the side of her face. "Someday this will be part of our past, too. A memory we made together.

She and Lilly and Jesse's grandmother, Rose, were inseparable when they were younger. The three blossoms, people called them. Lilly, Rose, and Violet." Ellie smiled. "I love that. I love the old-fashioned names.

Oh, here. Here's the record player." Barney lifted a light-blue and white case from one of the eaves. She set it on a trunk and unlatched the lid. "Ever see one of these?" She held up a small plastic disklike thing. Cara and Allie both shook their heads. "This is an insert that you'd put inside one of the forty-five singles so they'd play.

The Everly Brothers. 'Bye Bye Love.

How many cats do you have?" Carly couldn't help but ask. "Oh, only the three right now, the first three I showed you. These others, they've all gone over the Rainbow Bridge." "The Rainbow Bridge?" Carly asked. "Kitty heaven," Hazel whispered. "Oh. I'm sorry for your loss." Carly corrected herself. "Losses.