Quotes About Memories

Nos hacemos fotos, no con el objeto de recordar, sino para completarlas después con el resto de nuestras vidas. Por eso hay fotos que aciertan y fotos que no. Imágenes que el tiempo pone en su lugar, atribuyendo a unas su auténtico significado, y negando otras que se apagan solas, igual que si los colores se borraran con el tiempo.

Amicizia..." Corso si guardò attorno, aspettando che qualcuno gli spiegasse la parola. "I bar e i cimiteri sono pieni di amici inseparabili.

Y no echas de menos el campo? ¿Correr por ahí tras un conejo? Sonrió, melancólico. —Lo que echo de menos es mi juventud. Ser cachorro o perro joven creyendo que el mundo es tuyo.

One is never alone with a book nearby, don't you agree?...Every page reminds us of a day that has passed and makes us relive the emotions that filled it. Happy hours underlined in red pencil, dark ones in black...Where was I, then? What prince called me his friend, what beggar called me his brother?

Irremediablemente, él nota el regusto de melancolía. De pronto los recuerdos acuden atropellándose: palabras breves como gemidos deslizándose por una piel desnuda, escorzo de líneas largas y suaves reflejadas sobre un espejo que multiplicaba el gris de afuera, en el contraluz plomizo de una ventana que, como un cuadro francés de primeros de siglo, enmarcaba palmeras mojadas, mar y lluvia.

En qué piensa uno en momentos como éste? ¿A quién recuerda, a quién olvida, a quién ama? La respuesta es nada ni nadie en absoluto, pues los instintos, más poderosos que los pensamientos, se concentran en conservar la vida.

Juro a vuestras mercedes que no lograba odiarla. Por el contrario, la certeza de que tenía parte en mi desgracia dejábame un regusto agridulce, que intensificaba el hechizo de su recuerdo. Era malvada –y aún lo fue más con el tiempo, voto a Cristo– pero era bellísima. Y justo esa connivencia de maldad y de belleza, tan ligadas una a otra, me causaba una fascinación intensa, un doloroso placer al sufrir trabajos y penar por su causa.

Manuel Azaña, por ejemplo, resumió bastante bien el paisaje en sus memorias, cuando escribió aquello de Reducir aquellas masas a la disciplina, hacerlas entrar en una organización militar del Estado, con mandos dependientes del gobierno, para sostener la guerra conforme a los planes de un estado mayor, constituyó el problema capital de la República.

Ciertas fanfarronadas se esfuman viajando, y que cada cual tiene las ciudades y la memoria que se merece

Entré en mi casa, vi que amancillada de anciana habitación era despojos; mi báculo, más corvo y menos fuerte. Vencida de la edad sentí mi espada, y no hallé cosa en que poner los ojos que no fuese recuerdo de la muerte.

One is never alone with a book nearby, don't you agree? Every page reminds us of a day that has passed and makes us relive the emotions that filled it. Happy hours underlined in red pencil, dark ones in black...

I kissed my first girl and smoked my first cigarette on the same day. I haven't had time for tobacco since.

But the places we come from don't leave us as easily as we leave them.

Few memories are deep seated like particulate matter...easy to inhale but never exhale fully!

If you don't believe in ghosts, you've never been to a family reunion.

I get really cool gifts, and I know this sounds really lame, but I think one of the best gifts I've ever received was the Easy Bake Oven when I was younger. When I was little, I loved to bake! I want to get one now so I can make weird mini desserts for people.

I remember getting this scrapbook that this girl made, that I actually gave to my mom to hold onto because she has a 'Twilight' shrine in their house in Florida. It was just this scrapbook of me, starting with 'Twilight ' and the whole progression of me and my career throughout that, and other stuff that I had done in between.

They'd had a long chat, Elsie Gormley and this house, more than sixty years of it. It had witnessed all her tempers, all her moods, and usually improved them. It held her voice, her husband's, her children's, and now their children's in turn - echoes and repetitions lodged in around the baseboards, around the window frames like those pale motes of dust that had wedged at the edge of the kitchen floor.

All the things they'd brought into this house; all of Elsie's things, packed up and taken away. A world delineated by this ebb and flow of items. The stuff of people's lives.

I did find some time to go to a record store and check out 'Headstrong' actually in the racks. It was pretty cool I never thought I'd see my own CD sitting there with everyone else's. I made my Mom take lots of pics!

Your future self is watching you right now through your memories.

If my world were to cave in tomorrow, I would look back on all the pleasures, excitements and worthwhilenesses I have been lucky enough to have had. Not the sadness, not my miscarriages or my father leaving home, but the joy of everything else. It will have been enough.

You go back. You search for what made you happy when you were smaller. We are all grown up children, really... So one should go back and search for what was loved and found to be real.

Everything can happen, everything is possible and probable. Time and place do not exist; on an insignificant basis of reality the imagination spins, weaving new patterns; a mixture of memories, experiences, free fancies, incongruities and improvisations.