Quotes About Memories

School might have been shit, but at least it was simple.

Think about today. Think about things that have happened. Especially about good things that have happened.

Just think about today. Think about things that have happened. Especially about good things that have happened.

We ate simply, we were healthy, and we were uninterested in those things that should be called possessions not because they are possessed but because they possess. Those ten years were the happiest of my life save the first ten, the years in which I had neither position nor success, and no one took notice of me. Those were the years of the parent holding the child in his arms, lifting him high in the air, and pulling him close. As I held my own son, when he was a baby, God was right there.

In living, one muddles through the years for the sake of those one or two moments which are indisputably great.

They glanced over at Catherine, who was dancing with Billy, as only fathers and daughters can dance. No matter how old the daughter may be, the father is dancing, in joy unparalleled, with his child when she was little.

Memories are not images of loved ones returning to us. They are the spirits of loved ones visiting us.

feelings and times long gone come and live again, or basic truths hard to keep in view return.

Spend the afternoon. You can't take it with you.

All those things for which we have no words are lost.

A young child knows Mother as a smelled skin, a halo of light, a strength in the arms, a voice that trembles with feeling. Later the child wakes and discovers this mother—and adds facts to impressions, and historical understanding to facts.

Where are the eyes of my childhood, those fearful eyes she had thirty years ago, the eyes that made me?

All memories soften with age, and the good ones are also the most perishable (...) conjured up till they faded to nothing. Like cave paintings by candlelight, she could only glimpse them now in the dark from the corner of her eye.

Times like this become memories almost instantly, part of a gilded past that somehow coexists with the present. Remember whens to look back on even as they are happening, bittersweet and aglow with sunshine fading to sepia—the late September dust suspended in the wake of a passing car, leafy smell in the air, blue sky reflected in his sunglasses.

Frances is feeling a familiar yet unnameably old feeling. One she hadn't known was ever hers to forget. Happiness.

For me, the cooking life has been a long love affair, with moments both sublime and ridiculous. But like a love affair, looking back you remember the happy times best —

On my day off, I rarely want to eat restaurant food unless I'm looking for new ideas or recipes to steal. What I want to eat is home cooking, somebody's anybody's - mother's or grandmother's food. A simple pasta pomodoro made with love, a clumsily thrown-together tuna casserole, roast beef with Yorkshire

But like a love affair, looking back you remember the happy times best — the things that drew you in, attracted you in the first place, the things that kept you coming back for more.

With a spoonful of nostalgia and even more sauce

ÖzgürlüÄŸü günlerimden artakalan bir gölgeydim sadece.

Yet others hummed snatches of German music: one émigré wrote that the melodies of Schubert or Beethoven seemed to reconstitute his dead father.

Nothing was working, and my friend was dead, and I didn't want to look at that.

For some reason, the sight of snow descending on fire always makes me think of the ancient world—legionaries in sheepskin warming themselves at a brazier: mountain altars where offerings glow between wintry pillars; centaurs with torches cantering beside a frozen sea—scattered, uncoordinated shapes from a fabulous past, infinitely removed from life; and yet bringing with them memories of things real and imagined. These

My favorite things in life don't cost any money. It's really clear that the most precious resource we all have is time. —STEVE JOBS