Quotes About Memories

La infancia es a veces un paraíso perdido, pero otras, es un infierno de mierda.

Luna congelada Con esta soledad alevosa tranquila con esta soledad de sagradas goteras de lejanos aullidos de monstruoso silencio de recuerdos al firme de luna congelada de noche para otros de ojos bien abiertos con esta soledad inservible vacía se puede algunas veces entender el amor.

El tiempo pasa y yo sigo viviendo, con los dolores y las ausencias de siempre pero sigo viviendo.

Hay días en que la recuerdo y me pregunto: ¿Qué estará haciendo? Hay noches en que la extraño y me pregunto: ¿Qué me estoy haciendo?

Sometimes, when I look back over my life," said Hannah sadly, "I do not think of all the people who harmed me, but quite often of all the kindnesses and wish I could go back and say 'thank you' properly." She

I have lost things I will never stop missing.

Cornelia—who was in town dropping off her children at her parents' house for a week of, as she put it, "unfettered joy, limitless pie, and irreversible spoiling

Besides, some things just can't make the leap from past to present, and that hat was not a leaper.

I laughed. I cried. Sometimes, hours or days after I'd last seen Trillium, some tiny, jewel-colored piece of story would come winging toward me out of the blue, and I would laugh or cry again.

We are all anthologies. We are each thousands of pages long, filled with fairy tales and poetry, mysteries and tragedy, forgotten stories in the back no one will ever read.

Life had been a suit I'd only put on for special occasions. Most of the time I kept it in the back of my closet, forgetting it was there. We were meant to die when it was barely stitched anymore, when the elbows and knees were stained with grass and mud, shoulder pads uneven from people hugging you all the time, downpours and blistering sun, the fabric faded, buttons gone.

what is it like to have a dad?

It was with heavy hearts that they took leave of one another.

Sommige ervarings word nooit vergeet nie, net onderdruk.

First love is never forgotten,' she went on. 'It's the only love that remains fresh and potent for a lifetime. It's the truest and most innocent of loves, exactly because it can never come to fruition. Do you understand what I mean?' 'Not exactly.' 'It never grows old; you see? It's as fleeting as the morning dew, yet it clings to us all our lives.

When You Are Old' by W. B. Yeats, which appeared in 1892.

When you are old and grey and full of sleep, And nodding by the fire, take down this book, And slowly read, and dream of the soft look Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep; How many loved your moments of glad grace, And loved your beauty with love false or true, But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you, And loved the sorrows of your changing face—' Her hand touched his, stopping him.

Nothing's worse than saying goodbye. It's a little like dying.

It had been so brief a sojourn, not even a full century. He had been a guest in a mansion and he was not ungrateful. He was at once exhausted and refreshed. His stay was ended. Now he must gather up the shabby impedimenta of his mind and body and be on his way again.

Somewhere beyond the sink-hole, past the magnolia, under the live oaks, a boy and a yearling ran side by side, and were gone forever.

We all burn. We burn in fire. We burn in blood. We burn in dreams. And it never ends. Dreams never end. You would not want them to. Not if it means forgetting. You can never forget. You, who are all that is left. So remember, we are born in fire. Again and again. You would live it all again. No matter how much it hurts. When it hurts you know you are alive. And you know that as long as you live, they live. And when you die, they die. You are the inheriter of memories.

Every once in a while, I need a no-agenda day with nothing to do, but those aren't the days we're going to celebrate at the end of our lives. We won't even remember those days. What we'll remember are the days when we had everything to do, and with God's help, we did it. We won't remember the things that came easy; we'll remember the things that came hard. We'll remember the miracles on the far side of "long and boring.

Don't accumulate possessions; accumulate experiences!

Don't accumulate possessions, accumulate experiences or vice versa–