Quotes About Memories

To be able to say: I loved this person, we had a hell of a nice time together, it's over but in a way it will never be over and I do know that I for sure loved this person, to be able to say that and mean it, that's rare…That's rare and valuable.

In the chair, watching the fire and thinking of Pop and how sad it was that he was not immortal, and how happy I was that he had been able to be with us so much, that we'd been lucky enough to have three or four things together that were like the Old Days along with just the happiness of being together and talking and joking, I fell asleep.

There are only two places in the world where we can live happy: at home and in Paris.

Há sempre países mágicos que fazem parte da nossa infância. Os que nos vêm à memória e que visitamos quando dormimos e sonhamos. São tão maravilhosos à noite como quando eramos crianças. Se alguma vez voltamos para os ver, desvanecem-se. Mas à noite não perdem nada da antiga beleza se tivermos a sorte de sonhar com eles

Maybe I have had all my life in three days, he thought. If that's true I wish we would have spent the last night differently. But last nights are never any good. Last nothings are any good.

But this is how Paris was in the early days when we were very poor and very happy.

If you are lucky enough to have lived in Paris as a young man, then wherever you go the rest of your life, it stays with you, for Paris is a moveable feast.

This is how Paris was in the early days when we were very poor and very happy. We ate well and cheaply and drank well and cheaply and slept well and warm together and loved each other.

My mojito in the Bodeguita del Medio and my daiquiri in the Floridita.

Pamplona is changed, of course, but not as much as we are older. I found that if you took a drink that it got very much the same as it always was.

The moving of the boulders was weary and painful work. We came to know every one of the stones by sight and touch, and I have vivid memories of their angular peculiarities even to-day.

In a person's lifetime there may be not more than half a dozen occasions that he can look back to in the certain knowledge that right then, at that moment, there was room for nothing but happiness in his heart.

Conozco las estrellas por memorias, los ejércitos de la noche, y hay en la delantera los que nos traen la nieve o los cultivos de verano, nos traen todo lo que tenemos (...) los conozco cuando se levantan y cuando caen... y ahora veo la luz, la señal del fuego saliendo (...). Por lo tanto, ella ordena, llana de grandes esperanzas.

Learning stamps you with it's moments. Childhood's learning is made up of moments. It isn't steady. It's a pulse.

She felt as though in death her father had been asked to bear the weight of that raised lid himself, and hold it up by lying there, the same way he'd lain on the hospital bed and counted the minutes and the hours to make his life go by. She stood by the coffin as she had by his bed, waiting it out with him.

I am sad when I think that the years go by like sacks that we mark Returned Empty, sad when I think that we shall be separated from one another and from ourselves.

I'll recognize her by the way she's trying to recognize me. Lost memories will guide her.

You ask if everything dissolves like this in a thin haze of memories, if in this torpid hour or the breaker's sigh every destiny's fulfilled. I'd like to say no, that the moment when you'll pass out of time is rushing toward you; maybe only those who want to become infinite, and, who knows, you can do it; I cannot.

We took 350 billion snaps in 2011 and an astonishing 1.5 trillion in 2013—more than all the photos ever taken before in all of history.

Here stand my books, line upon line They reach the roof, and row by row, They speak of faded tastes of mine, And things I did, but do not, know.

No more memories, no more silent tears. No more gazing across the wasted years. Help me say goodbye.

His routine had drawn him so deep inside himself that he feared the flood of memories her words on the postcard might unleash. He was afraid of wanting her again and all that it would mean. Finally, he read her postcard. He read it three times. He remembered how it had been.

But won't you miss me?" . . . "I already do," he said.

When they're alive, it's easy to see the flaws. When they're gone, you tend to notice only the hole in the Earth that they left.