Quotes About Memories

estados mentales representan una actitud motivada por los sentimientos memorizados anclados subconscientemente en el cuerpo. Una actitud es una serie de pensamientos conectados a un sentimiento, o viceversa. Es el ciclo repetitivo de pensar y sentir, sentir y pensar. Por esta razón debes definir el hábito neural que tu adicción emocional ha creado.

Most of us live in the past and resist living in a new future. Why? The body is so habituated to memorizing the chemical records of our past experiences that it grows attached to these emotions. In a very real sense, we become addicted to those familiar feelings. So when we want to look to the future and dream of new vistas and bold landscapes in our not-too-distant reality, the body, whose currency is feelings, resists the sudden change in direction.

What did you want to be when you grew up? What about now? What's on your "bucket list," those things you want to do before you die? What is your calling, the work of your heart and soul? Talk about one of your happiest memories. What made you happy? What could happen out of the blue that would be like a dream come true? What do you want for your children/loved ones that money can buy?

It was hard to venture back near the place you'd been bred without settling into the characteristics of the person you'd been there.

Christmas was almost three months in the rearview mirror, and there was something awful about Christmas music when it was nearly summer. It was like a clown in the rain, with his makeup running.

Do you like eighties music, Nurse Willowes?" "Can we discuss the oldies another time?" "What? What? The oldies? I've already had a man kicking in my ribs, and now you pull out my heart." "Hey!

But before that there'd been summer days in the barn while he rebuilt the Mustang. There'd been John Prine on the radio, the sweet smell of hay baking in the heat, and afternoons filled with her lazy, pointless questions—a never-ending interrogation that was, at turns, tiresome, amusing, and erotic. There'd been her body, tattooed and icy white, with the bony knees and skinny thighs of a long-distance runner. There'd been her breath on his neck.

maybe ghosts always haunted minds, not places.

Jude had a private collection.

they had had some good times together, and Buddy had made a decent meal in the end. Really, what else could you ask from a parent? He

They have eighties sing-alongs after breakfast. Toto and Hall & Oates." "In that case," the Fireman said, "I think I'd rather burn alive.

the Brat—Victoria to her second-grade teacher, Vicki to her mother, but the Brat to her father and in her heart—was

It's like . . . a house after someone moves out. The house is still there, but all their stuff is gone. Someone took away the furniture and rolled up the rugs. The movers crated all the parts of Shelly Beukes up and shipped her away. There's just not much left of her anymore except the empty house.

He remembered buying them for her. The two of them together at the farmers' market, wandering from stall to stall, buying bread rounds still warm from baking and bags of vegetables still thick with dirt and leaves. The way she managed to look at every display, ferreted out everything interesting, made people smile as she talked to them.

Don't you dare write any romantic songs about springtime Aubrey. It would kill me, and dying once is bad enough.

There is something incredibly nostalgic and significant about the annual cascade of autumn leaves.

I enjoy every minute, because there are going to be a lot of moments in your future that you're going to wish you held onto longer.

There's been a lot of really cool stuff that's happened to me throughout my career, and I remember everything, but I don't think I savored every moment of it like I should have or like I do now.

Everything that's cool that happens, I look at my wife and I say, 'We need to enjoy this moment right here! This is really special!'

We got some beer and some cheap wine and rented a room at a rundown motel and stayed up most of the night telling lies and a few sad truths that we hoped the other would think were lies.

Our history was by then nothing but rocks, some scratches in the dirt, some huts, fuzzy memories passed on carelessly from the old to the young. Bottom line, we were pretty ignorant and there was a flea problem.

Time is like that. Especially when you're young. It can fix a lot of things, and what it doesn't fix, you forget, or at least push back and only bring out at certain times, which is what I did, now and then, late at night, just before sleep claimed me.

The past is never done with us in any substantial way. The most cursory examination reveals its bloody fingerprints on every surface of our lives.

And now,"she said, raising her hand for a cab, "your wish has been granted. You may go home and forget I ever existed."A taxi swung up to the curb. "Whatever happens next is not on your conscience." "Wait,"I said. "Gobi . . ." She leaned forward, kissing me briefly on the mouth. "Au revoir, Perry." "Wait,"I said. But she didn't. She climbed into the taxi. She didn't look back.