Quotes About Memories

I thought how strange it had never occurred to me before that I was only purely happy until I was nine years old

Avocados are my favorite fruit. Every Sunday my grandfather used to bring me an avocado pear hidden at the bottom of his briefcase under six soiled shirts and the Sunday comics. He taught me how to eat avocados by melting grape jelly and french dressing together in a saucepan and filling the cup of the pear with the garnet sauce. I felt homesick for that sauce. The crabmeat tasted bland in comparison.

May 13 – today I bought a raincoat – no, that was yesterday – yesterday I bought a raincoat with a frivolous pink lining that does good to my eyes because I have never ever had anything pink-colored, and it was much too expensive

The wet dawn inks are doing their blue dissolve. On their blotter of fog the trees Seem a botanical drawing. Memories growing, ring on ring, A series of weddings. Knowing neither abortions nor bitchery, Truer than women, They seed so effortlessly! Tasting the winds, that are footless, Waist-deep in history. Full of wings, otherworldliness. In this, they are Ledas. O mother of leaves and sweetness Who are these pietas? The shadows of ringdoves chanting, but chasing nothing.

What I want back is what I was Before the bed, before the knife, Before the brooch-pin and the salve Fixed me in this parenthesis; Horses fluent in the wind, A place, a time gone out of mind.

You will have to live with those memories and make them into something new. Only by acceptance of the past will you alter its meaning.

My friend, blood shaking my heart The awful daring of a moment's surrender Which an age of prudence can never retract By this, and this only, we have existed Which is not to be found in our obituaries Or in memories draped by the beneficent spider Or under seals broken by the lean solicitor In our empty rooms

You cannot face it steadily, but this thing is sure, That time is no healer: the patient is no longer here.

I am the old house With the noxious smell and the sorrow before morning, In which all past is present, all degradation Is unredeemable.

When you were old, did your memories crowd out your other thoughts? Or did you lose them—your childhood, your hated enemies, your friends?

Returning to a city that one has known and loved fills you with a delicious sense of warmth.

Snowbébé, Snowbébé... These days...your memories of me have left you too, haven't they? My voice reaches you no more. You look wonderful, Snowbébé—so strong and valiant. Fight on, with your tail held high! I'm always right here. Always watching everyone from up here... Snowbébé, Snowbébé... Snowbébé, Snowbébé...

A handful of visits. A series of days. Then she would be gone, with a life of her own, a family of her own. And

If there was one thing from which people never recovered, it was childhood. If there was one tie that could never truly be broken, for good or for ill, it was to family.

The graves are, he suggests, only stone bookmarks left in pages of earth.

Life isn't about the years you lived. It is about how you lived.

Your childhood sun-corner is where you are when the call sounds.

I saw that it was all over, put away in a box like a doll no longer cared for, the magical intimacy of our childhood together

Only because Gregory put a toad in my bed last night," Daphne bit off, "and Benedict's standing has never recovered from the time he beheaded my favorite doll.

It really is more difficult when you're older. You're blessed because you had the chance to know them, but the pain of the loss is more intense.

La verdad era que algunas cosas dolían demasiado. Y había algunas heridas que no cicatrizaban, ni siquiera en diez años.

There was a very slight lilt to it, too, attesting to a childhood spent far from Lincolnshire, and Grace felt herself sway, as if she could fall forward, lightly, softly, and land somewhere else. Far, far from here.

Lots of words have been written about home being where your heart, your love, your dog, your parakeet, whatever, is. I get it—bricks and mortar don't make a home and all that jazz … For me, home is where you find the touchstones of your life … … And that's the thing about touchstones: Unlike a house, you can take them with you.

I did get to keep the wedding dresses from 'Runaway Bride'. They're all boxed up in my garage. I've never opened them. It'll be fun one day when Hazel is taller. She can play dress-up with her friends.