Quotes About Memories

Saudade de um tempo? Tenho saudade é de não haver tempo.

My mom used to have a lot of European cinema playing in the house, so I'd catch bits and pieces of films.

He knew every man who worked for him by his first name, it was said, but his daughters could not recall ever seeing him give their mother a kiss.

Maybe the heart is like an expandable file, filling to accommodate everything you need to carry with you.

If it wasn't for O'Flanagan's Pub on Manhattan's Upper East Side, I don't know where I would have spent my Friday nights as a young man.

it was like '65 or '68 again

Roscoe's dead. I loved him, but he's gone now. Besides, if I was the one who croaked, I'd want him to be happy.

I am delighted to be back home in Galway, the place I first came to as a 19-year-old in 1960. It's here where my heart is and will forever be.

Remembering the fatherless feeling, the longing to be picked up and tossed into the air and caught with a laugh, and carried on a shoulder ride as his father-protector strode fearless through the world.

I first met Serch at Payday, a really good once-a-week night club started by these guys Patrick Moxey and Beaver, the latter of whom I know now from the rare-wine world. (Did I just write that sentence? You're goddamn right I did.)

He liked the fog, the world quietened down and closed in. Glossy turned to matt, every stridency was muted, substance leached out of the brute matter all around. Things became notions, the brash present a vague memory. By some parallel process of slippage, his innumerable childhood memories of foggy days morphed into other memories. The fog of illness, real or feigned, of fevers and flu and febrility.

Without a past you can't have a future.

I just went off for two months traveling around Europe on a motorcycle and pretty much turned my phone off. I did 5 000 miles with my dad. We went through Holland, Germany, Austria, Slovenia, Croatia, Bosnia, Montenegro, Italy... and then I did Spain and France by myself.

Richard Harris

Aquamarine Forget-me-not blue Turquoise

A photo album of his parents

I grew up reading Holocaust literature at the beach, Gulag literature on winter holidays, Vietnam memoirs on spring break.

I think Vietnam was what we had instead of happy childhoods.

a long time ago. His father often met him on trips out here, but not this year. Cancer made sure of that. The last thing he ever told Bishop was that Bishop was

20. Everybody's got to learn sometimes (The Korgis) 19. Annie's song (John Denver) 18. Eleanor Rigby (The Beatles) 17. Leaving on a jet plane (Peter, Paul and Mary)

16. Love will tear us apart (Joy Division) 15. Ain't no sunshine (Bill Withers) 14. Sound of silence (Simon and Garfunkel) 13. My way (Frank Sinatra) 12. All by myself (Eric Carmen) 11. Yesterday (The Beatles) 10. Without you (Harry Nilsson) 9. Seasons in the sun (Terry Jacks) 8. Fix You (Coldplay) 7. My heart will go on (Celine Dion) 6. Hallelujah (Leonard Cohen/Alexandra Burke/Jeff Buckley) 5. Nothing compares 2 U (Prince/Sinead O'Connor) 4. I will always love you (Whitney Houston)

3. The living years (Mike and the Mechanics) 2. Candle in the wind (Elton John)

Nostalgia n-are insa nici in clin, nici in maneca cu estetica, nu e nici macar legata de amintirile fericite; ai nostalgia unui anume loc pentru ca pur si simplu ai trait acolo, bine sau rau nici nu conteaza, trecutul e intotdeauna frumos, ca si viitor de altfel, doar prezentul doare, doar prezentul pe care il tarasti dupa tine ca pe un butoi mustind de suferinta, intre doua nesfarsiri de blanda fericire.

Everyone collects souvenirs, whether they call them that or not. They're evidence that we've taken part in the great dance of life – been places, seen things. They're connections between us and something grander and more eternal than we are. And they belong to us. Tourists shooting blurry mobile-phone-camera snapshots of the 'Mona Lisa' or Niagara Falls want to prove they were there, not to have art to hang on their walls.