Quotes About Memories

Even if you did drop into someone's consciousness, you'd have all their memories and desires and hang-ups right there in front of you. And as you say, in an eternity you'd get the chance to know everything once enough time had passed. You'd become unable to judge anyone.' 'You'd end up being completely compassionate,' I said. 'You wouldn't be able to judge someone once you understood them and their motivations. You'd become them, like Rowan said, and so it would be like judging yourself.

I think it's wonderful that we can kiss and forget, and when we can't it'll be time to argue.

The room was darker and smelled of evergreen, as though my mother had been dreaming of trees.

Life, of course, is full of people you discover you like a lot and then never see again.

No doubt you are right, my best of friends, there would be far less suffering amongst mankind, if men—and God knows why they are so fashioned—did not employ their imaginations so assiduously in recalling the memory of past sorrow, instead of bearing their present lot with equanimity.

These feet won't bear the woman Up the steep steps as lightheartedly They did the skipping child long years ago.

Alas that the friend of my youth* has gone—alas that I ever knew her. I might say to myself, you are a fool, you are searching for something which is not to be found on earth. But I found her, I felt the heart and the generous soul of her in whose presence I felt myself to be more than I was because I was everything I could be.

ke?ke insanlar -niçin böyle olduklar?n? ancak Tanr? bilir!- geçip giden ?imdiyi ya?amak yerine, geçmi?te kalan bir s?k?nt?n?n hat?ralar?n? an?msamak için hayal gücünü bu kadar zorlamasalar.

She could not help recalling the bustling which had attended Eduard's celebration of her own birthday, she could not help thinking of the newly erected pavilion under whose roof they had promised themselves so much pleasure. The fireworks exploded again before her eyes and in her ears; the lonelier she was, the more she lived in imagination; yet the more she lived in imagination, the more alone she felt. She leaned upon his arm no more, and had no hope of ever being able to lean on it again.

She paused, frowning as she sifted through her memories. "I think it was my mother who said it, that Kathleen married Frank Dunn just so she could leave Haverhill. I remember thinking at the time that that must have been a powerful desire she had, to see more of the world." Or a powerful desire to get away from her small of corner of it, Chad was thinking.

Saying good night to the mountains, the sun throws his most beautiful rays to them, that they may not forget him till the morning.

The happiest of all things is when an old friend comes and greets us as in former times; the heart is comforted with the assurance that some day everything that we have loved will be given back

The main information passed along to contactees is simply that the human body provides a host for a fragment of this undefinable soul energy. The major religions have been telling us this for thousands of years, pointing out that the human race supplies the shells for souls. Man's ego has demanded that he embellish this truth by adding the belief that his pitiful personality is worthy of preservation and that his memories and personality go along with the soul.

Never write a letter if you can help it, and never destroy one!

All that the historians give us are little oases in the desert of time, and we linger fondly in these, forgetting the vast tracks between one and another that were trodden by the weary generations of men.

Mr Bough has 'surprise picnic' written all over him.

The only thing you take with you when you're gone is what you leave behind.

It was always November there.

Happiness was different in childhood. It was so much then a matter simply of accumulation, of taking things - new experiences, new emotions - and applying them like so many polished tiles to what would someday be the marvellously finished pavilion of the self.

I guard my memories of my lost one jealously, keep them securely under wraps, like a folio of delicate watercolours that must be protected from the harsh light of day.

So much of childhood seems to have been spent in secret, and most of its pleasures came from this. Most of the memories I have of it, too. I already considered life to be far from wonderful—something, indeed, to be avoided as much as one could, like school or games or children's parties. Life, real life, was like a picture that frightened me seriously.

But I never think about dead people. Looking at these old graves makes me think how generation after generation of the same family are all gathered together. And that makes me think about how life goes on, but not about dying. I never think about dying.

Who does not know what it is like to go with a friend to a railway station and then to watch the train take them away? As you walk along the platform back into the city, the person who has just gone is often more there, more totally there, than when you embraced them before they climbed into the train. When we embrace to say goodbye, maybe we do it for this reason—to take into our arms what we want to keep when they've gone.

When we suffer anguish we return to early childhood because that is the period in which we first learnt to suffer the experience of total loss. It was more than that. It was the period in which we suffered more total losses than in all the rest of our life put together.