Quotes About Memories

Beauty gathered in the brightness of the sunny hours - is often best remembered in the quiet dark.

No day copies yesterday, no two nights will teach what bliss is in precisely the same way, with precisely the same kisses.

I am a miser of my memories of you And will not spend them.

I don't think my parents liked me. They put a live teddy bear in my crib.

Play it again, Sam!

In those clubs, I learned that everything my town had taught me about race was absolutely wrong. The memories of that time in my life on Auburn Avenue are great ones, and they're all mine.

Again the early-morning sun was generous with its warmth. All the sounds dear to a horseman were around me - the snort of the horses as they cleared their throats, the gentle swish of their tails, the tinkle of irons as we flung the saddles over their backs - little sounds of no importance, but they stay in the unconscious library of memory.

Never look back to the past, never regret, even if there is emptiness ahead.' But I couldn't help it. Sometimes I would rather look back if it meant that I could feel something in my heart, even something sad. Sadness was better than emptiness.

The road home is a long one. As I walk this road, I recall my grandmother's words: "Everyone has a past life, a future life and a present life.

You should know that there is little you can seek in this world, that there is no need for you to be so greedy, in the end all you can achieve are memories, hazy, intangible, dreamlike memories which are impossible to articulate. When you try to relate them, there are only sentences, the dregs left from the filter of linguistic structures.

In the end all you can achieve are memories, hazy, intangible, dreamlike memories which are impossible to articulate. When you try to relate them, there are only sentences, the dregs left from the filter of linguistic structures.

No matter how careful we are, we all leave behind little bits of ourselves as we go about our lives. Hair, sweat, fingernails, tears…any of which can be tested. No one can escape.

They may be nothing more than scraps of paper, but they capture something profound. Light and wind and air, the tenderness or joy of the photographer, the bashfulness or pleasure of the subject. You have to guard these things forever in your heart. That's why photographs are taken in the first place.

I'm sure it must have been even more wonderful then, when we were young and knew nothing about the pain of growing up.

Any kind of uncertainty caused him pain, so we were determined to hide the time that had passed and the memories he'd lost.

La expresión de sus rostros, sin embargo no reflejaba angustia. Sus miradas se alzaban hasta algún punto del horizonte y sus ojos se mostraban tan serenos como la lisa superficie de una laguna perdida en el corazón del bosque, bajo la cual se oculta una multitud de recuerdos secretos.

There, behind your heartbeat, have you stored up all my lost memories?

No one can erase the stories.

Acaso piensas que no son más que unos papelitos con una emulsión química en una de sus caras? Si es así, te equivocas. Son mucho más que eso. Atesoran parte de la vida de las personas. Reflejan la futilidad de un instante; la luz, el viento y el aire de un paisaje; la sonrisa y el azoramiento de la persona fotografiada, y el gozo y amor de quien toma la foto por aquello que fotografía. Por eso precisamente hacemos fotografías y por eso deben conservarse.

unable to rid herself of her memories. Poor thing.

The memories of him as a small boy and memories from my days at the dormitory seemed to bleed together like the shades in a watercolor painting

Memories are a lot tougher than you might think. Just like the hearts that hold them.

Paperback novelettes with faded covers still bore coffee stains and greasy fingerprints from their first readers. The books can never forget their readers, though the readers have no doubt forgotten all about the books' contents.

My father used to sing to me in my mother's womb. I think I can name about any tune in two beats.