Quotes About Memories

Two hours with my grandpa felt like eternity, but also like not long enough. I should have come sooner. I should have called him more this past year. I should have watched more Cubs games with him, and I should have been better at being his grandson.

What would it be like to be lying there listening to your family parceling out a bunch of things you cared enough about to keep for your whole life? There's

Mixed in with all of its silly bullshit, Facebook is the literal manifestation of all our regrets, looping and looping, for free, on our computers and phones. People who should be gone and safely out of our lives forever are there again, one cryptic little glimpse at a time, reminding us of all the things we should or shouldn't have done. Then

Significant things shouldn't begin or end at Applebee's.

Mixed in with all of its silly bullshit, Facebook is the literal manifestation of all our regrets, looping and looping, for free, on our computers and phones. People who should be gone and safely out of our lives forever are there again, one cryptic little glimpse at a time, reminding us of all the things we should or shouldn't have done.

I pick up a Prince bobblehead doll. It's wearing a little purple suit. On

Significant things shouldn't begin or end at Applebee's.

Significant things shouldn't begin or end at Applebee's. You

Facebook is the literal manifestation of all our regrets, looping and looping, for free, on our computers and phones. People who should be gone and safely out of our lives forever are there again, one cryptic little glimpse at a time, reminding us of all the things we should or shouldn't have done.

Keep all special thoughts and memories for lifetimes to come. Share these keepsakes with others to inspire hope and build from the past, which can bridge to the future.

There was nothing like a picnic! she reflected. If you were happy, it made you happier. If you were unhappy, it blew your troubles away.

Did we bring a lunch?' asked Tacy. 'Yes,' said Betsy. 'It's under the seat. There are chicken sandwiches and hard-boiled eggs and potato salad and watermelon and chocolate cake and sweet pickles and sugar cookies and ice cream.' 'It ought to be plenty,' Tacy said.

Some characters become your friends for life. That's how it was for me with Betsy and Tacy. —JUDY BLUME

In the little yellow cottage which had once been the Ray house, lights were shining. It could almost have been home still. Betsy and Tacy could almost have been children again. "I wish I still lived there," said Betsy, hugging Tacy, partly from love and partly from cold. "It's such trouble to grow up.

Sherlock said, "I consider that a man's brain originally is like a little empty attic, and you have to stock it with such furniture as you choose.

Want to make it a date, haircut?' she asked. 'As soon as I can scrape together the cash for the train ticket?' What's with the haircut, kiddo ?' he asked. 'I thought we were past that.' We'll never be past that,' she said.

Sometimes people graduate but they don't leave. They hang around for years, for no reason. I would think of ghosts like that, I decided.

My memories of the last year were playing back through my mind at super-speed, but I was looking at them all from a different camera angle.

She fought it. She recovered. Years helped her to reach the day when she could face her memories indifferently, then the day when she felt no necessity to face them. It was finished and of no concern to her any longer. She had won the battle against her memories. But one form of torture remained, untouched by the years, the torture of the word why?

The hours ahead, like all her nights with him, would be added, she thought, to that savings account of one's life where moments of time are stored in the pride of having been lived.

We all have a sort of vague, glowing picture when we say that, something solemn, big and important. But actually all we know of it is the people we meet in our lifetime.

But he had never been as happy as when he took her to fraternity dances. He had had many violent loves, when he swore he could not live without this girl or that; he forgot Catherine for weeks at a time and she never reminded him. He had always come back to her, suddenly, inexplicably, as he did tonight. Her

There are so many different forms of silence: the silence that tyrannical states force on their citizens, stealing their memories, rewriting their histories, and imposing on them a state-sanctioned identity. Or the silence of witnesses who choose to ignore or not speak the truth, and of victims who at times become complicit in the crimes committed against them. Then there are the silences we indulge in about ourselves, our personal mythologies, the stories we impose upon our real lives.

You get a strange feeling when you leave a place, like you'll not only miss the people you love, but you miss the person you are at this time and place because you'll never be the same again