Quotes About Memories

My fondest memories are generally the day after Thanksgiving. I get the total decorating Christmas itch.

Much of what we do in life is repair work on our childhood. We try to make it better than it was when we were growing up. But usually our insecurities remain our insecurities.

Shed locked it away, inside a drawer in her mind, and hidden the key.

Recalling our band of firebrands to him fills me with longing. Those girls are married now, most of them, and the better part have moved away. But then, it was never the same with us, after.

Ghosts are both remnants of history and witnesses to it.

Ghost stories are how we forgive houses for daring to outlive us.

Growing up with my family gave me some of my best memories. I'd like to have a family of my own - slip away for a bit and do nothing but spend those early years with my children.

I have such happy memories of performing in a choir and I don't think I'd have got where I am today without all that experience. So my advice to young singers is to either join your school or church's choir or find one in your local area. Choral music at any level teaches you so much about musicianship and blending your voice.

How hard it is to escape from places. However carefully one goes they hold you — you leave little bits of yourself fluttering on the fences — like rags and shreds of your very life.

there is no good in knowing people when you are going right away from them in a short time, and may never meet them again.

När mammor dör, då förlorar man ett av väderstrecken. Då förlorar man vartannat andetag, då förlorar man en glänta. När mammor dör, växer det sly överallt.

The death of the Curé Ponosse occurred in the vintage month, when his beloved Clochemerle was impregnated with the odour of new wine, in the golden glory of a brilliant, hot September. The old priest died in the apotheosis of a great year, famous for its wine, one of those years whose fragrant soul is destined to be poured, later, from bottles, to rejoice the heart of man, to celebrate earth's abundance, the memories of happy days, and perfect summers.

Los rostros que yo amo, los míos, quedaron atrás, y mi alma los teje, los borda encima del mar

It's amazing, it doesn't feel like it has been 10 years since retirement.

But the daily tasks and prayers of men, the ancient city tired from having lived too long, the ravaged marble and worn out bells, all those things oppressed by the weight of memories, all those perishable things were rendered humble in comparison with the tremendous blazing Alps that tore at the sky with their thousand unyielding spikes, a vast, solitary city that was waiting, perhaps, for a new race of Titans.

I'm allergic to sad memories. It's the worst.

Long relationships might be richer, but relatively brief, relatively uncomplicated encounters with interesting people could be lovely as well. Every person you knew, every person you loved even, did not have to consume you for the time to have been worthwhile.

How I will miss the horses.

No one will ever love me that much again.

Sammy, we were together. You must know that. When I'm honest with myself, the most important parts of me were yours.

What is the point of bad dates if not to have amusing anecdotes for your friends?

But the best parts of him were in his books. I suppose I could always read those if I missed him too much. I haven't wanted to read one yet, though.

To return to the city of one's birth always felt like retreat.

He had an appreciation for things other people had forgotten.