Quotes About Memories

There are generations who watch Doctor Who together.

I'm very close to my parents and we built a sailboat together when I was growing up. We're partners.

We were just a bunch of high school kids who got into the Ramones together.

I kind of grew up in a commune, but it wasn't a hippie commune necessarily, but it was a big house with a lot of families, we all lived together and it was the 70s, whatever that means.

But she felt an unexpected stab of loneliness. Teddy was not there. If she were to reach out to where he had always lain beside her, he would not be there. He would never be there again. Not ever or ever or ever.

She would spend the rest of her life wondering about him . . . She would wonder if he ever thought of her . . .

It is stronge how smells can bring back vivid memories.

For a few dazed moments she had quite forgotten . . . For all the changes ten years had wrought in his physique, she had been caught up in very physical memories. And in the sort of yearning that self-discipline had suppressed in her for so many years that she had thought it quite dead.

She found that she particularly hugged to herself the memories of the brief physical contacts they had shared.

She knew that her only chance of attaining peace of mind was never to see him again. Yet how could she forget him? Dear God, how was she to live without him?

She was achingly conscious, as he escorted her as usual to the door of her room, that this was the last time she would be with him like this.

She could feel the old pain and despised herself for allowing it still to hurt. But how she had loved him!

Good-bye, Henry, he said. You are young. You will forget this episode soon and be happy again as you were when I met you. I am sorry that I have saddened you, my love.

The memories themselves had been bad enough. It was almost unbearably painful to remember how close they had come to giving themselves to each other, how deep and lasting their love had seemed to be. It was impossible to understand how he could have changed so utterly and in such a short time. She shuddered at the memory of his coldness and callousness . . .

He grinned suddenly and her heart somersaulted—he looked so very like that exuberant boy of her memories.

She raised her eyes to his. To the golden boy who had lit her world for a couple of months one springtime long ago—so little happiness to occupy the space of twenty-eight years.

This was all she would ever have of him, and she was going to enjoy these few days for all they were worth. She would enjoy them in the strict privacy of her heart, without either Piers or anyone else being at all aware of her reason for doing so.

He had known that memories would be stirred if he saw her again. He had known, surely, that somehow he would be hurt by them.

She felt a welling of love for him and a sinking of sadness. If only seven years could be erased.

Adaptamos nuestra vida a las circunstancias y cogemos la felicidad donde la encontramos, aun cuando sólo sea en momentos pasajeros. O hacemos eso o nos perdemos la oportunidad de aceptar la gracia en nuestra vida. Este es un momento feliz. Lo recordaré.

In a few more days, Christina thought . . . this would all be over . . . She would try to recall how he had looked, how he had sounded, what he had said. He would be gone.

But body and mind knew alike that he was Piers, that she had given all of herself to him, with nothing held back. She knew it, and she reveled in the knowledge. For all her life she would know that they had been lovers for one brief and glorious night.

For there was no more friendship and never would be again.

Por qué todo lo maravilloso tiene que quedar atrás?, pensó. ¿Por qué tenía que haber tantos adioses en la vida?