Quotes About Memories

I sold my elegant blackness to all those childhood ghosts and now they pay me for it.

Sitting on the train to Atlanta, Frank suddenly realized that those memories, powerful as they were, did not crush him anymore or throw him into paralyzing despair. He could recall every detail, every sorrow, without needing alcohol to steady him. Was this the fruit of sobriety?

Tú y yo tenemos más ayer que nadie. Necesitamos alguna suerte de mañana.

Every now and then she looked around for tangible evidence of his having ever been there. Where were the butterflies? the blueberries? the whistling reed? She could find nothing, for he had left nothing but his stunning absence. An absence so decorative, so ornate, it was difficult for her to understand how she had ever endured, without falling dead or being consumed, his magnificent presence.

Taught me a lesson I should have known all along. What you do to children matters. And they might never forget.

Sleep without the fragrance of her hair next to him was impossible.

Yummy food, unique attention, playfulness, or loving sternness—these features are often summoned to sweeten one's memory of a grandmother.

He left me his violin.

I could feel that purple deep inside me. And that lemonade Mama used to make when Pap came in out the fields. It be cool and yellowish, with seeds floating near the bottom. And that streak of green them june bugs made on the trees the night we left from down home. All of them colors was in me. Just sitting there. So when Cholly come up and tickled my foot, it was like them berries, that lemonade, them streaks of green the june bugs made, all come together.

Here is the house.

Taught me a lesson I should have known all along. What you do to children matters. And they might never forget. She's got a big-time job in California but she don't call or visit anymore. She sends me money and stuff every now and then, but I ain't seen her in I don't know how long.

We was girls together

We're not migrating people,' she said. 'We live in our old houses, and eat on our old dishes and use our old silverware everyday. We're close to the past and comfortable with it. We've surrounded our lives with the pictures of all our relatives hanging on the walls, and we grow up hearing stories about them. It gives these things personality beyond just the material they're made of.

This familiarity of revolutionary violence in the French imaginaire, together with sepia-tinted memories of the old Franco-Russian alliance, pre-disposed intellectuals in France to greet Communist apologetics for Soviet brutality with a distinctly sympathetic ear.

the country's inter-war anti-Semitism). But if east Europeans paid less attention in retrospect to the plight of the Jews, it was not just because they were indifferent at the time or preoccupied with their own survival. It is because the Communists imposed enough suffering and injustice of their own to forge a whole new layer of resentments and memories.

For the first time in her life Mariah knew the benefit, the balm of not keeping blistering memories padlocked in her mind.

Among thousands of comrades and ten thousand enemies, only you... only you made me forget my dream

There really is no place like home, even when it's grown a couple of sizes too small...

Everyone says your first time should be magical. You should be in love. You should feel safe. Because you can't go back once you've done it. That will always be your first time. Years later this is what I'll remember as my first time. That inflated sensation is long gone. Now I just feel nauseous; it s the feeling I get when reality dawns.

When grief develops and grows, the suffering at the heart of it changes, too. It becomes less acute, less raw and fiery. I'm not sure it diminishes, but it somehow becomes diffused across the memories that surround the loss at the heart of it. It seems less concentrated, and therefore more bearable.

One only has a few fragrant nights of spring. Store your memories for when you are old. You will enjoy them again under such a moon as this.

I ate a rough country terrine made of truffled pork with thyme and forgot about talking.

It's funny, but I was just thinking I wouldn't mind a repeat of that boring evening when we elapsed to 1953," said Gideon. "Just you and me and Cousin Sofa.

Liebe geht durch alle Zeiten.