Quotes About Memories

I grew up in a small town outside Philadelphia and went to the local high school, where I ran track all four years.

I grew up in a small town.

I grew up in a really small town.

The thing about a small town is that there are people who just remember me as a musician, as a high school football player.

The smartest thing I've done for my kids is writing a song about a holiday. Every year after that, even after I'm gone, they'll get a small check from the play it gets around the Fourth.

I remember my brother was always a jerk to me. One time, he bought Jimi Hendrix's 'Smash Hits,' and he gave it to me because he didn't like it, thinking it was a punishment.

It was smashing working with Jerry Desmonde, he was a very nice chap.

When you listen to old-school music, you can smell your mother's food in the kitchen. You can feel where you was when you first heard that song. That's what's beautiful about music. It's for everyone, but we all have individual memories that make us love it.

I love the smell of skunks. Driving down a back road and you smell a skunk that's sprayed or been hit. I love that. It reminds me of home.

There was this sausage factory a block away from my childhood apartment. It didn't smell nice, like chorizo or something; it was pretty foul. Just nasty. But that smell reminds me so much of my childhood because every morning when I was going to school, I would smell that.

I always liked the smell of a smoke-filled room. I think it's a good smell.

The smell of the carpet in a hotel room is the same everywhere.

I used to go to Sheen High Street with my dad on a Saturday, and there was a butcher next door to the fishmonger. I hated the smell of the fishmonger, but I found the smell of the butcher's much more appealing. And I liked the big knives. I thought it looked like a decent job.

When I smell pho, I just automatically think of my mom. All these nostalgic feelings and memories come rushing through my head.

I grew up to the smell of doughnuts, scones, pies, and bread.

When I got on set, and these huge, big lights come on, it brings on a smell - it's almost like the smell of a light burning a little bit - and I said, 'This reminds me of my childhood,' because I grew up onstage.

This is going to make me sound really weird and stalkery, but I've bought the aftershaves of all my ex-boyfriends. Sometimes I like to smell them and be like 'aah, that's Charlie... aah that's Dan'.

I lived in the library with my grandmother as a child. I still love the smell of books; the library card is still my friend.

The smell of cigars reminds me of someone I used to know, and it just always brings me back. I love it; I find something very comforting about it.

I remember when I grew up and Dad would take me to kindergarten in the morning, and you could smell the chips in the air from the factory nearby.

I remember the ballads of the eighties when my mom was cleaning, sometimes I'd listen to, like, Amanda Miguel or something like that and I'll smell the Fabulous.

Many Euro-Asian homes have a cupboard devoted to Chinese ingredients. The smell cannot be contained and it's my earliest memory. I both object to and love it.

I particularly remember the smell of burgers and bratwurst drifting across Cottbus Velodrome in Germany.

When I was a young boy, I would wake to an empty, silent house. My parents would return home at lunchtime, bringing with them the mulchy smell of the farmyard.