Quotes About Memories

What else are we to do with our obsessions? Do they feed us? Or are we simply scavenging our memories for one gleaming image to tell the truth of what is hunting us?

It is winter. Ravens are standing on a pile of bones -- black typeface on white paper picking an idea clean. It's what I do each time I sit down to write. What else are we to do with our obsessions? Do they feed us? Or are we simply scavenging our memories for one gleaming image to tell the truth of what is hunting us? 'To write,' Marguerite Duras remarked, 'is also not to speak. It is to keep silent. It is to howl noiselessly.

I am of this place. Family is a place, and my family s located here, those who are living and those who have passed. I am am settled in the scent of sage, Mount Moran's reflection at Oxbow Bend is more than a mirror of memories; it is the joy found in river otters, a reminder that there are places in the world we can return for peace unchanged.

Today's youngsters will unfortunately never know the thrills we experienced dubbing movies in the era of Rashomon.

She siged, a sound of regret for childhood transgressions, for all the lessons learned too late.

What happens when we get old? he wondered. Where does the kid part of us go?

If I had just one day to relive, I would spend every minute of it with you. Holding you in bed. Whispering secrets beneath warm sheets.

A lifetime's worth of memories atomized.

I find as I grow older, I love those most, whom I loved first.

She could not help feeling a great sadness that he was gone. He was the only person in the world who had known her as a puma. With his death, she had lost a part of herself. And yet, she could not entirely let go of her anger toward him. It was a complicated feeling, and she did not like complicated feelings. Beatrice

the past was so painful at any point. It seared and burned.

He paused, wishing to embrace her, but feeling for the moment that he should not. Then, reaching into a waistcoat pocket, he took from it a thin gold locket, the size of a silver dollar, which he opened and handed to her. One interior face of it was lined with a photograph of Berenice as a girl of twelve, thin, delicate, supercilious, self-contained, distant, as she was to this hour.

Each of us needs a reserve of memories and experiences that are beautiful, healthy, and strong enough to help us during difficult moments. Sometimes when the pain in us is so big, we cannot truly touch life's wonders. We need help. But if we have a strong storehouse of happy memories and experiences, we can bring them to mind to help us embrace the block of pain inside.

Suppose a friend who has come a long way to visit is having a cup of tea with us. Mindfulness helps the time we spend with her to be a time we won't forget.

I was hanging out with Jonathan Richman last night.

Wil Wheaton, Patrick Stewart and Jonathan Frakes were all the early formidable crushes of my girlhood.

I wish I was in my 20s during the '90s to really fully live it. I feel like that was a pretty exciting time being from Chicago, seeing Jordan win six rings.

I remember having a lot of Josh White albums. Johnny Cash. Elvis. I loved the Coasters.

I still can't manage to keep a journal, and people have been telling me to since the fourth grade.

My mom bought me an 'Anne of Green Gables' journal. And I just remember thinking it was so cool, and I could write anything in it.

I've been keeping a journal since I was in the seventh grade.

I keep a journal, like many writers do. It helps in writing a story, as you can use an incident from the journal and put in your story.

I can remember how rude I could be at times to journalists and people phoning up for advice.

You'll find a lot of rich detail in people's personal histories - diaries and journals and things of the era.