Quotes About Memories

Two weeks, you

At times, my nostalgia for our family life as it used to be--for our own imperfect, cherished, irretrievable past--is nearly overwhelming.

Home was this whole perfectly contained universe--town, friends, acquaintances, the streets we traveled every day...And we were about to leave it all.

Die with me, Yu.

I'll keep walking so I can…see you again someday.

My dad would give me $10, which is a lot of money when you're 9, to sing at church, on tables at restaurants, at family functions, just about anywhere.

Before you tell me how we shouldn't be doing this—" did she dare say what she was thinking? "—I want you to remember how it felt when we were together, because I know you'd like to feel that way again." His hands tightened at her waist and his entire body hardened against hers. She drew back enough to see his face and caught her breath at his expression. Desire and want, need. Not sexual but…the need for closeness, for a connection. For her.

Her cheeks burned afresh at the memory of that final night before her departure from Sibu. She had gone to his berth out in the saloon and pleaded with him to let her stay—sinking every last vestige of pride in her desperation to be with him. Only he hadn't cared. He'd told her roughly to get back to her cabin and stop making a fool of herself. Next time he needed a woman, he had said, he would make sure it was one and not some silly little girl with romantic notions.

People like to say that time heals all wounds, but I don't believe it. I remember once Grandpa took me firewood cutting, and as we looked at the rings of the tree together, he pointed out the years where there was drought and the years where there was fire. So while time allowed for new growth that hid the scars of the past, those scars were still there, inside the tree, and part of the tree. I think about how I am like that tree.

I half closed my eyes and imagined this was the spot where everything I'd ever lost since my childhood had washed up, and I was now standing here in front of it, and if I waited long enough, a tiny figure would appear on the horizon across the field and gradually get larger until I'd see it was Tommy, and he'd wave, and maybe even call.

Memories, even your most precious ones, fade surprisingly quickly. But I don't go along with that. The memories I value most, I don't ever see them fading.

I half closed my eyes and imagined this was the spot where everything I'd ever lost since my childhood had washed up, and I was now standing here in front of it, and if I waited long enough, a tiny figure would appear on the horizon across the field and gradually get larger until I'd see it was Tommy, and he'd wave, and maybe even call.

All these moments, even the less pleasant ones, are snapshots we can never replace once they're lost, and it leaves us wishing for just the slightest glimpse of them

Blanky. Such an innocuous name for something that had now cemented itself as the locus of my grief and horror and rage.

All these moments, even the less pleasant ones, are snapshots we can never replace once they're lost, and it leaves us wishing for just the slightest glimpse of them if it means we can feel whole again.

He kept his hands off the plastic tablecloth. It was a museum of past meals.

It was a museum of past meals.

Grief changes shape, but it never ends.

When the people you love are gone, you're alone.

When I was in high school, my friends and I would drive out into the country to abandoned houses and structures... haha... to ghost hunt. We would scare each other so bad! We would sometimes camp out by the abandoned buildings just to scare ourselves! Such good times. The adrenaline of real fear is so cool!

I am gone and am not coming back, but I remember everything.

I thought you'd be there waiting for me … What greeted me instead was the lingering stench of ashes and the empty sockets of our ruined home. Samuel Puterman on his return to Warsaw, 1945

Back when he was a kid, about eleven years old, he used to go looking for cars that had "No Radio in Car" signs on them. He'd take a removable radio, of a type that was very popular at the time, and throw it as hard as he could at the car window with a note wrapped around it that read, now you have one.

Some of my most outrageous nights I can only believe actually happened because of corroborating evidence. No wonder I'm famous for partying! The ultimate party, if it's any good, you can't remember it.