Quotes About Memories

All these words and stories. My mom calls them the color of a human life: those little moments that are so uniquely ours.

I'd go to Hoosier Hill with a beautiful gir

The thing I realize is, that it's not what you take, it's what you leave.

For a few moments I want to be 5 years old again. I want someone to plunk me down in front of a Disney movie and ask me if I want apple juice or grape.

She just wanted to go home. And not home to the farmhouse where all the ghosts lived, but home to Tai, and to an earlier time, when raising Eli was a no-brainer. Easy. As easy as raising an infant.

The '80s were fabulous. The '90s sucked, and the '70s were just a sad, sad time in human history. Go 1980s! There's something that's just so cute about that time. And not just yellow nail polish and 'I'm a loner.'

And who would advocate for her? Who would arrange her doctor appointments and throw out rotting bananas as she drifted into old age? Who would keep her photos, her jewelry, her horrible shadowboxes full of undergraduate angst, her hummingbird paintings, or even her tango shoes? Who would care about all the random junk she accumulated over the years and the stories that had attached to them?

Remember the good times---you'll need them during the bad," a family friend had boozily warned her at their wedding.

My friend Doggie was gone, and I never even got a chance to say good-bye to him for keeps.

She smiled a wonderful smile and pinched my cheek.

I have grown up but that should be a positive thing. When you look at a photo album it's lovely to remember being so young but it's also good to know you grew up!

Once upon a time when I was young, I had a lovely boyfriend who bought me a hammock and hooked it up on my tiny and highly perilous roof terrace, where I spent many happy hours just rocking and reading, eating Quavers and reflecting on my lovely handsome boyfriend. Then, I married him and we had a bunch of children and a dog and moved somewhere where it rains all the time, and I think the hammock is in storage. This, my friends, is apparently what's known as 'happily ever after'.

Quando você planta seu coração em um cantinho, esse lugar sempre te acompanha.

hiraeth (n): a homesickness for a home to which you cannot return, a home that maybe never was; the nostalgia, the yearning, the grief for lost places in your past

Which means that in the end there are certain things you can take with you when you flee, things that have no weight, such as music.

Nothing is nicer than diving with your eyes open. Diving down as far as the shimmering legs of your mother and father who have just come back from swimming and now are wading to shore through the shallow water. Nothing more fun than to tickle them and to hear, muffled by the water, how they shriek because they know it will make their child happy.

But just because you bury something, that doesn't mean it stops existing. Those feelings, they'd been there all along. All that time. I had to face it. He was part of my DNA. I had brown hair and I had freckles and I would always have Conrad in my heart.

You never know the last time you'll see a place. A person.

I delete the picture of him from my phone; I delete his number. I think that if I just delete him enough, it will be like none of it ever happened and my heart won't hurt so badly

I wondered if this was the way old crushes died, with a whimper, slowly, and then, just like that—gone.

I've only ever loved two boys—both of them with the last name Fisher. Conrad was first, and I loved him in a way that you can really only do the first time around. It's the kind of love that doesn't know better and doesn't want to—it's dizzy and foolish and fierce. That kind of love is really a one-time-only thing.

For me, it was almost like winter didn't count. Summer was what mattered. My whole life was measured in summers.

I hated to leave her and I hated to be near her, because she made me remember what I wanted most to forget.

It was a summer I would never, ever forget. It was the summer everything began. It was the summer I turned pretty. Because for the first time, I felt it. Pretty, I mean. Every summer up to this one, I believed it'd be different. Life would be different. And that summer, it finally was.