Quotes About Memories

The announcement to mother: Don't be sad, mother. God betrayed me. I am His widow. I've become ageless and all my memories are smothered.

Wenn ich so allein bin, siehst du, und mich an alles erinnere, das ist das Schlimmste, daß man allein nicht darüber lachen kann, oder dann ist es nur so ein böses und bitteres Lachen, so daß man später über genau die gleichen Dinge doch wieder heult.

Es wäre sehr leer ohne die junge Fremde, das Meer und das Gelände mit Dünen und Wind. [...]. Es wäre Sand wie auf Sylt (1949) und Meeresbläue wie bei Sperlonga (1962) und Erinnerung. Auch wenn er Lynn nicht anschaut: sie macht die Gegenwart, ihr Körper im andern Sessel.

Wenn ich so allein bin, siehst du, und mich an alles erinnere, das ist das Schlimme, daß man allein nicht darüber lachen kann, oder dann ist es nur so ein böses und bitteres Lachen, so daß man später über genau die gleichen Dinge doch wieder heult.

Wenn ich so allein bin, siehst du, und mich an alles erinnere, das ist das Schlimme, daß man allein nicht darüber lachen kann, oder dann ist es nur so ein böses und bitteres Lachen, so daß man später über genau die gleichen Dinge doch wieder heult (S. 173).

Create a trophy room in your heart. Each time you experience a victory, place a memory on the shelf. Before you face a challenge, take a quick tour of God's accomplishments. Look at all the paychecks he has provided, all the blessings he has given, all the prayers he had answered. Imitate the shepherd boy David. Before he fought Goliath, the giant, he remembered how God had helped him kill a lion and a bear (1 Samuel 17:34-36). He faced his future by revisiting the past.

Spend all your love on her now. Forget not the hands, though spotted, The hair, though thinning, The eyes, though dim, For they are a part of you. And when they are gone, a part of you is gone.

It doesn't matter how nice the convalescent home is; nurses and old folks don't replace a grandbaby's smile or a son's kiss.

Spend all your love on her now. Forget not the hands, though spotted, The hair, though thinning, The eyes, though dim, For they are a part of you. And when they are gone, a part of you is gone. On the Anvil

Maar toen ze de tranen voelde opwellen, weigerde ze te gaan huilen. Ze duwde de herinneringen ver van zich vandaan.

I never met a teddy I didn't like.

photographs freeze the current of life.

As a child I was always borrowing other people's families, being invited for a week or a month in the summer to share a family life.

I've learned that regardless of your relationship with your parents, you'll miss them when they're gone from your life.

I believe that one can never leave home. I believe that one carries the shadows, the dreams, the fears and the dragons of home under one's skin, at the extreme corners of one's eyes and possibly in the gristle of the earlobe.

At the end of the day people won't remember what you said or did, they will remember how you made them feel.

You are the sum total of everything you've ever seen, heard, eaten, smelled, been told, forgot - it's all there. Everything influences each of us, and because of that I try to make sure that my experiences are positive.

I answer the heroic question, 'Death, where is thy sting?' with 'It is in my heart and mind and memories.

I find it very difficult to let a friend or beloved go into that country of no return. I answer the heroic question, Death, where is thy sting? with It is here in my heart, and my mind, and my memories.

You have no idea what your legacy will be because your legacy is every life you touch.

Death of a beloved flattens and dulls everything. Connections do not adhere so closely, and important events lose some of their glow.

one can never leave home...one carries the shadows, the dreams, the dragons of home under one's skin, at the extreme corners of one's eyes...

Thomas Wolfe warned in the title of America's great novel that you can't go home again. I enjoyed the book but I never agreed with the title. I believe that one can never leave home. I believe that one carries the shadows, the dreams, the fears and dragons of home under one's skin, at the extreme corners of one's eyes and possibly in the gristle of the earlobe.

My sorrow at leaving was confined to a gloom at separating from Bailey for a month (we had never been parted), the imagined loneliness of Uncle Willie (he put on a good face, though at thirty-five he'd never been separated from his mother) and the loss of Louise, my first friend. I wouldn't miss Mrs. Flowers, for she had given me her secret word which called forth a djinn who was to serve me all my life: books.