Quotes About Memories

When we hurt each other we should write it down in the sand, so the winds of forgiveness can make it go away for good. When we help each other we should chisel it in stone, lest we never forget the love of a friend.

The great difference between voyages rests not in ships but in the people you meet on them.

[My father] was generous with his affection, given to great, awkward, engulfing hugs, and I can remember so clearly the smell of his hugs, all starched shirt, tobacco, Old Spice, and Cutty Sark. Sometimes I think I've never been properly hugged since.

I have come to esteem history as a component of friendships. In my case at least friendships are not igneous but sedimentary.

Even where the affections are not strongly moved by any superior excellence, the companions of our childhood always possess a certain power over our minds which hardly any later friend can obtain.

An old friend never can be found, and nature has provided that he cannot easily be lost.

Years and years of happiness only make us realize how lucky we are to have friends that have shared and made that happiness a reality.

Old friends are the great blessing of one's later years. ... They have a memory of the same events and have the same mode of thinking.

As in the case of wines that improve with age, the oldest friendships ought to be the most delightful.

There is only one thing better than making a new friend, and that is keeping an old one.

The great cathedral space which was childhood.

I don't think about whether people will remember me or not. I've been an okay person. I've learned a lot. I've taught people a thing or two. That's what's important.

In the rush of daily living it's easy to forget all the remarkable people, real or fictional, who have been a part of your life. But if you just imagine they are near for a moment, you will realize that anyone who ever touched your heart is always with you, patiently waiting to emanate warmth and support whenever you remember to think of them.

History is: Fables agreed upon - Voltaire The biography of a few stout and earnest persons - Ralph Waldo Emerson A vast Mississippi of falsehood - Matthew Arnold A confused heap of facts - Lord Chesterfield A cyclic poem written by time upon the memories of man -

Death is not only a passing on but a time for everyone else to truthfully reflect on one's life.

Truthfully, I'm pretty stuck in the '80s.

I collect memories. I look for opportunities to try new things, go to new places, and meet new people all the time.

Everybody should spend some quality time with their family members and try to make the best out of bad situations.

People like music when they're in love, but they don't need it as much. You need music when you're missing someone or you're pining for someone or you're forgetting someone or you're trying to process what just happened.

I have such bad memories, sitting in the back of a classroom, being told, you know, everybody is going to read a paragraph, and skipping ahead to my paragraph and being mortified and trying to read it enough times so that I wouldn't stutter and stammer, getting called on, even in high school.

The one I remember is going into London, as it was for us in Essex, on New Year's Eve in 1981. There were four of us and we'd had a few lagers on the way. One of my mates threw up in the Tube and then stood up and fell over in it. We thought it was the funniest thing we'd ever seen.

I'd pull my little brother on our motorcycle on an inner tube behind it. We would go fishing, we would hunt some, growing up.

Me and my mate used to go across the park, jump on the Met line to get the Tube into Harrow. There was a sports shop we always used to go into, and there was a McDonald's. We used to go off with three or four quid in our pocket. That would cover our train fare, mooching around Harrow, and going to McDonald's.

As a child in the early 1980s, I tended to talk with things in my mouth - food, dentist's tubes, balloons that would fly away, whatever - and if no one else was around, I'd talk anyway.