Quotes About Memories

Our childhood had passed over into history overnight. The transition was unnoticed by anyone but ourselves.

Aunts standing close in the kitchen like cigarettes in the pack, uncles splayed on furniture like butts in the ashtray.

Really it was her mother she'd wanted to call right after the bad news, or in the middle of it, while Mr. Petrofaccio was blowing his nose. First thing in the morning, last thing at night, whenever a fight with Tig left her in pieces, it had been her mother who put Willa back together. When someone mattered like that, you didn't lose her at death. You lost her as you kept living.

She laid the side of her face against his frail old heart, where the pink shell of her ear could capture whatever song it had left.

Don't you miss it, any of it?' … 'I couldn't say.' She thought about it. 'Not cars or electric lights, not movies. Books I can get if I ask. But walking around in a library, putting my hands on books I never knew about, that I miss. Any thing else, I don't know.

You don't ask questions of an attic

Aunts standing close in the kitchen llike cigaretts in the pack, uncles splayed on furniture like butts in the ashtray.

Damn April to hell, I could be done with that one. November also. Birthdays, Christmas, dogwoods and redbuds, even football season. Live long enough, and all the things you ever loved can turn around to scorch you blind. the wonder is that you could start life with nothing, end with nothing, and lose so much in between.

When you were a child planting lilacs here with your mother, did you imagine the same honeyed scent, eight years later, waking someone like me in this house... or that you would finally show me hot to fall in love with the time on my hands, to plant flowers to outlive me?

We came, we saw, we took away and we left behind, we must be allowed our anguish and our regrets.

Old homecoming queens never die.

one thought in it as regards childhood. For any kid that gets that as an option: take that sweet thing and run with it. Hide. Love it so hard. Because it's going to fucking leave you and not come back.

I stir in bed and the memories rise out of me like a buzz of flies from a carcass.

things I'd done with Hallie were clear, because we

little white top, white hip-hugger jeans, some prime real estate in between. I got a rush to recall touching that belly under the blankets. You don't forget your first, even if we're only talking the minor bases. She was in the big leagues now, laughing, padding around in Chinese-looking flip-flops, giving out cake squares on napkins. I wondered

I had a list going in my head that fall, of what all I would tell my little brother one day. But time passed and eventually my mind had only one thought in it as regards childhood. For any kid that gets that as an option: take that sweet thing and run with it. Hide. Love it so hard. Because it's going to fucking leave you and not come back.

if she really wanted to read an article about sailboat building she'd written twenty years ago, which she definitely did not. But giving up the physical record of all that work felt like a kind of death. Online wasn't enough. She wanted it to weigh something.

Now I would be one of the working kids. I had a list going in my head that fall, of what all I would tell my little brother one day. But time passed and eventually my mind had only one thought in it as regards childhood. For any kid that gets that as an option: take that sweet thing and run with it. Hide. Love it so hard. Because it's going to fucking leave you and not come back.

praise any word that can hold you. Praise all but the vanishing point where we stand now, not quite parted. Already memories fall like blows. But soon they will be treasure, dropped like gold through a miser's fingers as he makes his accounts…Praise each insomniac hour, kept wide awake by your glow. Sleep would only have robbed more coins from this vandal hoarded store.

Barbara died in 2013, but her legacy lives on in the laughter her books give to readers all over the world.

And here is the happiest news of all! When graduation was over, Room Nine did not even have to say good-bye to each other! Because all of us are coming back to this same school for first grade! So we can play at recess, just like Mother said! And guess what else? I can't wait to see those guys again! Because we will be friends forever and forever. And always and always. And I mean it.

Memories, James thought, thank God we have them. They help us to recall what's long gone, and we can live again in the past with those we once loved.

enjoyed both places. But it's nice

tries, and tries very hard, but she doesn't know what it's like to be the sole survivor, the only one left of one's contemporaries. They've all gone now. They're all dead and buried. My dearest friends, my loved ones. Even my enemies are no longer around to get my goat and spark the will in me to fight.