Quotes About Memories

To my first love, my only love." "To my greatest love," he answered, clinking his flute to hers, happiness flooding

long-ago lifetime.

Why are the most painful memories also the sweetest; why does the sweetness always draw us back no matter how long the pain might have kept us away beforehand? I don't know

Why are the most painful memories also the sweetest; why does the sweetness always draw us back no matter how long the pain might have kept us away beforehand?

In my view, the early Christian Gospels are so much more than historical sources. They are memories of early Christians about the one they considered to be the most important person ever to walk the planet.

When it comes to Jesus, all we have are memories. There are no lifelike portraits from his day, no stenographic notes recorded on the spot, no accounts of his activities written at the time. Only memories of his life, of what he said and did. Memories written after the fact. Long after the fact. Memories written by people who were not

Summer grasses, All that remains Of soldiers' dreams

The seeds sown in childhood put down deep roots.

My heart was full of hate and love and regret-all those things that have haunted me ever since.

Before he said I was too old for stories." "A person's never too old for stories, Bill. Man and boy, girl and woman, never too old. We live for them." "Do you say so?" "I do.

The stories we hear in childhood are the ones we remember all our lives.

Grief is like a drunken houseguest, always coming back for one more goodbye hug.

How we danced! - Sadie

Hitchhiking around Canada with a buddy after my senior year of college was the closest thing to an adventure I'd ever had, and given the cheerful, helpful nature of most Canadians, it wasn't much of an adventure.

but small towns have long memories and pass their horrors down ceremonially from generation to generation.

There's no tonic like an old friend.

I'm afraid to go to sleep. I'm afraid my dead friends will come to me, and that seeing them will kill me.

No one ever forgets a toy that made him or her supremely happy as a child, even if that toy is replaced by one like it that is much nicer.

She came to him then and lifted her arms to be picked up, something he could not remember her doing for a long time-maybe two years. It was amazing how time got by, how quickly a child could change, change in front of your eyes with an unobtrusiveness that was nearly terrible.

It always seems to be cool in the houses of old people, have you noticed?

The work will come again, but childhood won't.

I know one father who was leaving with his children for a promised trip to the circus when a phone call came for him to come to work instead. He declined. When his wife suggested that perhaps he should have gone to work, he responded, "The work will come again, but childhood won't.

Now if I were sitting at that funeral we visualized earlier, and one of my children was about to speak, I would want his life to represent the victory of teaching, training, and disciplining with love over a period of years rather than the battle scars of quick fix skirmishes. I would want his heart and mind to be filled with the pleasant memories of

but we just can't seem to rekindle the feeling we used to have.