Quotes About Memories

At Doodlets, a funny little shop crammed full of gifts with cat motifs, I get Bitsy a pot holder with a cat face on it and a set of catnip toys for Minka. I buy two rolls of cat wrapping paper, and while Jane is off searching for gifts for her family, I bought her a cat mobile, to hang in her room.

For the rest of her life, every lovers' quarrel would remind Vix of this night, this night when anger crackled in the air. She vowed then and there no guy would ever make her feel that bad.

And it felt like I was a black - and - white photo magically rippling into color wherever he touched me.

I was deeply loved. And scarred. Which is a pretty good trade-off in my holiday book.

Bhichad kar phir kabhi mile bhi nahi,ajab phool teh khile bhi nahi

I led the life of an intellectual up until a certain age. I remember Freud's 'Interpretation of Dreams' was a big favorite when I was 11. It sounded so interesting. And it really was!

There it was, there it is, the place where during the best time of our lives friendship had its home and happiness its headquarters.

Salt is added to dried rose petals with the perfume and spices, when we store them away in covered jars, the summers of our past.

I find it hard to describe what it is like to look fully into eyes that one has known that well--known better than one knows the look of one's own eyes, actually--and then put away, deliberately forgotten. That instantly reasserted intimacy, that resumption of what looks like friendly concern, is like nakedness, like exposure.

We must be reconciled, for what we left behind us can never be ours again.

Home was a curious thing, like happiness. You never knew you had had it until it was gone.

sitting in Grandmother's old wicker chair and littering my porch with her foolish young life.

Closing up the canyon camp was like closing up a house after a death. ("It is easier to die than to move," she wrote Augusta once; "at least for the Other Side you don't need trunks.")

within yourself, you became a grave for her as you were a grave for Chet, and you carried your dead unquietly within you. —

Neither place nor I had a chance of being anything unless we could live together for a while. I spent my youth envying people who had lived all their lives in the houses they were born in, and had attics full of proof that they had lived.

Across the intersection he could see the crumbling blue-green facade of the Palace Amusements building, the grinning ten-foot-high face on its north wall smiling out on empty streets and vacant lots. The arcade entrances were covered with plywood; broken neon tubing hung from the walls. He thought of the hours he had spent there as a kid, playing pinball, firing the real .22s in the shooting gallery, riding the bumper cars. It hurt to look at it now.

She touched me once And life then stopped. She held my hand, My frog heart hopped. She left my mouth And formed a smile With lips that promised: "In a while." I look, I hope, I stand, a dunce— Where is the one who touched me once?

Many a soldier's loving arms about this neck have cross'd and rested,Many a soldier's kiss dwells on these bearded lips.

We were together. I forget the rest.

Every passion borders on the chaotic, but the collector's passion borders on the chaos of memories.

Every passion borders on the chaotic, but the collector's passion borders on the chaos of memories.

Poor Jim JayGot stuck fastIn Yesterday.

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

the technology of personality transfer is imperfect--sometimes bits get left behind: memories, abilities, traits, that might be useful. A full succession of bodies can mean successive senility.