Quotes About Memories

Memories come back, pressing in on you, like ghost faces in the darkness pushing up the glass, trying to get into the lit room.

That's what memory is like: layers, one overlapping another, and compacting down the way old leaves slowly crumble and turn to a rich peaty soil, nourishing the new things that will grow. It's why it's important, remembering things. It's why it matters, when the memories aren't there, and no one fills in the gaps for you.

I don't believe in the white spectre-type of ghosts you get in stories, but what if ghosts are something else? Like memories somehow caught and trapped in time, released by being in certain places where things first happened.

living, we cover vast territories; imagine your life drawn on a map - a scribble where you grew up, each bus trip traced between school and home, or a clean line across the sea to a place you flew once. think of the time and things we accumulate, all the while growing more conscious of losing and leaving

Once they are gone they will never come back Looking at pictures and remembering the good times wont help like people say nothing will bring them back

I cannot get that beautiful afternoon out of my head, above me where I lay the grass was silhouetted against the blue of the heavens, small clouds were rushing past as the wind drove them on an endless journey.

esposa, Ilse, también le puede hablar de ella. Ya ve, la quería mucho.

Me gustaría que éste fuera el anillo de compromiso, pero si insistes en no querer casarte conmigo, al menos espero que nunca te lo quites del dedo y te acuerdes de mí siempre.

She had visited these woods as a child, and though she must be seeing two decades of growth, the birch trees in the starlight looked to her exactly as they had when she was a girl: aged and grand and magical. The world outside had steadily warped, become less predictable and more dangerous, while spots like this were protected. Here, there was no radio news, no city stresses, no schedule to disrupt.

He always smelled like warm wood and brandy, even when he hadn't had a drop of drink. Funny how he managed that. Funny how his smell was in her bed. Henry's eyelids fluttered open. Funny how he was in her bed.

But the truth was that some things simply hurt too much. And there were some wounds that didn't heal, not even in ten years.

Do you really think anyone saves our programs from one year to the next?" Sarah asked. "My mother does," Daisy said. "So does mine," Sarah answered, "but it's not as if she pulls them out and compares them side by side." "My mother does," Daisy said again. "Dear God," Iris moaned.

He was very tall," Francesca began. "Not so tall," Eloise said. "Benedict is taller." Francesca ignored her. "He was tall. And he smiled a great deal." "He held us on his shoulders," Daphne said, her voice starting to wobble, "until we grew too large." "And he laughed," Eloise said. "He loved to laugh. He had the very best laugh, our papa...

But it does feed a strange longing to touch a dew-dampened lawn, or feel a cool mist on one's face, or even to remember the joy of a perfect day after a week of rain.

Billie tried not to think of George. But she wasn't successful. Like it or not, he was her who.

He didn't often talk about his father, not even with his family. He'd told himself that it was because it was so much under the bridge; Edmund had been dead for over ten years. But the truth was that some things simply hurt too much. And there were some wounds that didn't heal, not even in ten years.

He was dead, of course, but I needed a little more time. I just sat beside him and watched his face." Another short burst of angry laughter escaped his lips. "God, what a fool I was. I think I half expected him to open his eyes at any moment.

She enjoyed writing notes, especially to people she hadn't seen in years (she'd always liked to imagine their surprise when they opened her envelope) (...)

If they're laughing now, they'll probably be laughing forever.

I will always call Darmstadt, Indiana, home.

There were a lot of things that happened at Indiana that I was proud of.

I really treated Indiana like my home. I spent a great two years over there. I played my best basketball there.

Sometimes you wish things would have been different. People still talk about the teams in Indiana. People can't believe we didn't win a championship.

There was a time when I just loved 'Indiana Jones' so much. I was in fourth or fifth grade, and I wore a fedora like that one to school every day. It was so dumb.