Quotes About Memories

Another part of you is already an old man, looking back on things. Waiting at the door for his granddaughter who's trying to make her way home for a visit. You are two people still separated by an ocean of time, part of you bursting to talk about what you saw, part of you longing to tell you what it means.

etherness n. the wistful feeling of looking around at a gathering of loved ones, all too aware that even though the room is filled with warmth and laughter now, it won't always be this way-that the coming years will steadily break people away into their own families, or see them pass away one by one, until there comes a time you look back and try to imagine what it feels like to have everyone together in the same place.

sitheless adj. feeling wistful upon brushing past a person you once shared a life with-noticing the same touch on the arm, seeing the same smile, hearing the same laugh you used to adore-suddenly all too aware that it's no longer for you, and lo longer carries the meaning it once did.

vellichor n. the strange wistfulness of used bookstores, which are somehow infused with the passage of time—filled with thousands of old books you'll never have time to read, each of which is itself locked in its own era, bound and dated and papered over like an old room the author abandoned years ago, a hidden annex littered with thoughts left just as they were on the day they were captured.

Trophies and medals have never meant much to me. I've had amazing experiences, which let you feel like you've accomplished something.

ANDERSONVILLE DIARY JOHN H. RANSOM, LATE FIRST SERGEANT NINTH MICH. CAV., AUTHOR AND PUBLISHER, 1881

He [my father] wasn't as bad towards me as he was to mum. Just absent.

The monsters of our childhood do not fade away, neither are they ever wholly monstrous. But neither, in my experience, do we ever reach a plane of detachment regarding our parents, however wise and old we may become. To pretend otherwise is to cheat.

My first attempt at a kiss was in fifth grade, but it didn't go so well. Later, I used Boyz II Men and Jodeci songs to come on to girls. I had more success.

So I've got a new friend I wish I could forget you But I miss you, wanna kiss you again She's like you, but she's not you, gotta find you again

With kids, the days are long, but the years are short.

Count your age by friends, not years. Count your life by smiles, not tears.

When I look at my own children, Mrs Hargreaves, I think… I think I know what childhood's for. It's to give us a bank of happy memories against future suffering. So when sadness comes, at least you can remember what it was to be happy.

The only yardstick for success our society has is being a champion. No one remembers anything else.

If you added up all the really significant episodes in your life they'd probably come to less than sixty minutes.

I really believe that our stories make us who we are. I don't think people are born as empty shells. They already have the makings of a personality and they have intelligence. But from the moment they're born and maybe before that they start accumulating stories and it's those stories that have the biggest effect on them.

There are some things that once you've lost, you never get back. Innocence is one. Love is another. I guess childhood is a third.

But it was my parents I longed for mostly. I wanted to be a little girl again and cuddle into them, wriggling in between them like I'd done in their bed when I was three or four, snug and warm in the safest place in the world. Instead I had Hell.

I love you more than songs can say, but I can't keep running after yesterday...

I only wish I had drunk more champagne.

My only regret is that I have not drunk more champagne in my life.

The next morning, my grandfather's staff lined up at the gangway to shake his hand and bid him an affectionate farewell.

As he listened to the two voices he was so attached to and thought back to the afternoon, the striking of the clocks, the easy, pleasant company, the walk round the shore, with a rush of feeling he felt that this must be happiness.

He felt a keen regret that he had spoken so of Dave Masters, the defiant boy they both had loved, whose ghost had held them, all these years, in a friendship whose depth they had never quite realized.