Quotes About Memories

His memories were too sad, his hopes too thin. To have to say things on paper seemed a terrible task, for it stirred the memories.

He had known several men who had lost limbs in battle; the men all claimed that they still felt things in the place where the limb had been. It was natural enough, then, that with Bill suddenly gone he and Gus would continue to have some of the feelings that went with friendship, even though the friend was gone.

He was tired of seeing his family only in dreams.

I miss Gus...I get to expecting to hear him talk and he ain't here. My ears sort of get empty.

Best to help such boys have their moment of fun, before life's torments snatched them.

He ought to let the past keep its glow and not try to mix it with what he had in the present.

He remembered the cold nights in their Arkansas cabin when he was a boy—how his mother piled quilts on top of him and his brothers, how peaceful it seemed under the quilts. Then it seemed like sleep was one of the most wonderful things in life.

The years would pass like weeks, and loves would pass too, or else grow sour.

They sorry," Deets said. "Saying won't change it. He's gone, don't worry about him. He's gone to the peaceful place." He put his hand

was not old enough to understand the need to go back to a place where things were simple. He had no happiness in his face, the young ranger; perhaps he had never had a place where things were simple, a place he could think about when he needed to remember happiness. Perhaps the young ranger had been unlucky—he might have no good place or good time to remember.

I can summon no wonder for what lies between Dallas and Washington. The south is memories, memories — it cannot help believing that yesterday was better than tomorrow can possibly be. Some of the memories are extraordinarily well packaged, it is true, but when a place has been reduced in its own estimation no amount of artful packaging can hide the gloom.

With Call suddenly determined to leave that very day, Augustus found himself regretful, nostalgic already for things he hadn't particularly cared for but hated to think of losing.

My grandmother is old," Famous Shoes said. "She may want to tell me a few more stories before she dies.

It's been quite a party ain't it?" Lonesome Dove

There was a period when he wanted to go back, when it would have been nice to sit with Maggie a few minutes and watch her fiddle with her hair. But he chose the river, and his solitude, thinking that in time the feeling would pass, and best so: he would stop thinking about Maggie, she would stop thinking about him... But it didn't pass--all that passed were years.

They were just men, and they left money, not memories.

sepulchers.

you fill in the blanks—with stories and memories from the people who love you.

I'll have my first still moment to think about myself. To think about what I've lost, what I'll never have back. To think only of myself. And of Owen, of what I've lost- what I'm still losing- without him.

É terrível saber tudo sobre alguém quando já não queremos saber nada sobre ela há muito tempo.

I was suddenly and completely inundated by it. What had been lost in losing him.

Wasn't that the gift of a home? You looked at it the same way, but then when you needed it to, it showed you all over again the many ways you'd been during the time that you had been living there. The many ways it had brought you back to yourself.

And you shall take me strongly In your arms again And I will not remember That I ever felt the pain.

Then he stands up and starts to head out, the way he came. And it's then that he says the one thing that only he would say to me. "The could-have-been boys still love you," Owen says. He isn't looking at me when he says it, his voice low. The way you say hello. The way you say goodbye.