Quotes About Memories

IF OLD MEMORIES STILL UPSET YOU, WRITE THEM DOWN CAREFULLY AND COMPLETELY

Freud believed that much of mental illness was due to repression, which is arguably and reasonably considered a form of self-deception. For him, memories of traumatically troubling events were unconsciously banished to perdition in the unconscious, where they rattled around and caused trouble, like poltergeists in a dungeon.

would inevitably provide him with an insulting nickname. They called me Howdy-Doody, after I was accepted as a crew member (something I am still slightly embarrassed to admit). When I asked the originator why he chose that

Navidad. No le gustaba la Navidad. Se despertaban en él demasiados recuerdos y demasiadas sensaciones que no podía controlar.

A veces creía que cada calle de Barcelona iba asociada a un recuerdo.

I think 'Tattoo''s a song that can go so many different ways. Some people think of it as a break-up song, but, for me, it's about somebody who comes into your life and really touches you - be they a friend, a family member or someone you're in a relationship with.

Contava agora tão-somente com um mundo de lembranças, nele recolhida, refugiada em recordações, cinzas com que apagar a brasa do desejo vivo.

Mas ele guarda seu segredo. É uma coisa tão grande demais encontrar na terra uma mãe que já morreu. Dalva não o entenderia.

I don't speak of revenge or forgiveness; forgetting is the only revenge and the only forgiveness.

Only that which is gone belongs to us.

Y yo empecé a encapsular mis recuerdos y a almacenarlos en esa biblioteca de añoranzas que a veces es nuestra mente.

Ce qui pèse le plus dans ta vie, ce sont certains êtres que tu as connus. Les livres, la musique, c'est différent. Pour enrichissants qu'ils soient, ils ne sont jamais que des moyens d'accéder aux êtres.

When I write, I make my memories tangible, and in this way I can get rid of them.

el fútbol es la recuperación semanal de la infancia».

Low tide, free day, nothing being memorialized here today—memories float, yes, over the place but not memories any of us now among the living possess—open your hands—...to take up whatever it is the spirit must take up, & what is the melody of that, the sustained one note of obligatory hope, taken in...

The confused medley of meditations on art and literature in which he had indulged since his isolation, as a dam to bar the current of old memories, had been rudely swept away, and the onrushing, irresistible wave crashed into the present and future, submerging everything beneath the blanket of the past, filling his mind with an immensity of sorrow, on whose surface floated, like futile wreckage, absurd trifles and dull episodes of his life.

The only women you can continue to love are those you lose.

Why were you following me? Or were you after me? No, you weren't after me. It was just that someone, and the someone had to be you, was upsetting the balance of the emptiness of my nights, in which nothing could touch me - not even memories, not even desire - in which there was no other presence to threaten my vulnerability.

Saat dördü geçmiÅŸti ve babam?n gözleri bana ac? çektirmeye devam ediyordu.

Ông có th? gi?t má»™t ng??i nào Ä'ó trong trái tim ông. Không yêu ng??i Ä'ó n?a. Và th? là má»™t ngày nào Ä'ó ng??i Ä'ó s? ch?t

Sabe V. que es muy triste para mí el perderla á v. después de haberla conocido?

How often, in the midst of modern civilizations have I wanted to bring you into the discussion, sometimes to recall these memories, sometimes to compare you to other countries, so often that your beloved image became to me like a social cancer.

Well, ever since I have known you, morning and night have lost all their charms for me, and I find only the afternoon beautiful. Sometimes I think the morning was made only to prepare the day for the enjoyment of the delights of the afternoon, and the night only to dream and to enjoy the remembrance of feelings I never knew before.

Do you remember that night, that stormy night when you, seeing me alone and crying next to my mother's lifeless body, came toward me and put your hand on my shoulder, the hand that for so long you refused to let me hold, and said to me: 'You have lost your mother, I ever had one.' And you cried with me. [...] Could I ever forget you?