Quotes About Memories

Trust me, true? Butch barked a laugh. Last time you said that i ended up with a vampire cocktail, remember?

Memories were especially dear, when they were all you had left of a loved one to hold on to.

Every night I went into Hannah's room and sat with her stuff. The thing I couldn't get was how her clothes and her books and her drawings were still there, but she wasn't. It just didn't compute. Her room was a like a car without an engine, everything where it should be, except all it was was potential. None of it was going to get used again.

Grief . . . is a sacred way of honoring those we love.

There was something about the people you grew up around, the ones you'd seen throughout your childhood, the folks you couldn't remember not knowing. Even if the past was a complicated mess, as you aged, you were just glad the sons of bitches were still on the planet. It gave you the illusion that life wasn't as fragile as it actually was--and on occasion, that was the only thing that got you through the night.

Xcor's hands shifted up her body until he cupped her face. "It was all worth it." "What?" she choked out. "All that came before this one moment where I am loved by you. Even though we must part, I can say that what I feel for you made it all worth it." And then, with one final kiss…he was gone.

Time was way too finite: no matter how much of it you had with someone you loved, when the end came, it wasn't nearly enough.

Just because you moved on didn't mean you shed your personal history like a suit of clothes. Your past was the same as your skin: with you for life, both the proverbial beauty marks . . . and the scars.

we are every age we have ever been at each moment in our lives. We carry it all with us like luggage.

With a rough shove, he pushed his palm down the front of his combats and the instant contact was made, an orgasm exploded out of him, memories of Novo from class, sparring, out in the field, flashing through his mind, keeping things going. He even went back to when he'd been inside her, her bare sex accepting his penetrations like she had been made for him and him alone.

Could the past be like this, he wondered, looking around at the empty clearing. A structure in your mind that you could burn down and get free of.

We were always every age we had ever been.

But then this one time, at band camp

I bei momenti sono più luminosi perché sono una certezza. E per lo stesso identico motivo, quelli brutti non possono diventare più tragici. Il passato è sicuro perché è indelebile.

Ser llorada por buena gente era el mejor legado que alguien puede dejar atrás.

If I can live through the events," she said, "I can get through the memories." In that moment, staring across the room at her show of will, he felt a tie to her, sure as if a rope had linked the pair of them chest-to-chest.

There was something about the people you grew up around, the ones you'd seen throughout your childhood, the folks you couldn't remember not knowing.

Sabes una cosa? —¿Qué? —Me gusta la forma en que me miras, Manello. —¿De verdad? —Sí. Me hace pensar en el momento en que tu boca estaba sobre mí, y me encanta recordar eso.

the whole clean-break thing had been an illusion. Just because you moved on didn't mean you shed your personal history like a suit of clothes. Your past was the same as your skin: with you for life, both the proverbial beauty marks . . . and the scars. Mostly the scars

Guardando il bel viso del suo migliore amico, Qhuinn ebbe la sensazione di conoscere da sempre quei capelli rossi, quegli occhi azzurri, quelle labbra, quella mascella. E fu proprio in virtù della loro lunga storia in comune che cercò qualcosa da dire, qualcosa in grado di riportarli al punto di partenza. Tutto ciò che gli venne in mente fu... Mi manchi. Mi manchi talmente tanto che sto male, ma non so come trovarti, anche se sei qui davanti a me.

He shook his head as he stared at the closed door. You never knew the last time you were seeing someone. You didn't know when the last argument happened, or the last time you had sex, or the last time you looked into their eyes and thanked God they were in your life. After they were gone? That was all you thought about. Day and night.

They massacred the servants before killing my parents. I saw it all through a knothole in the wood. As I said, my eyes were better back then.

Great loss, like death, required time to become real. The brain needed to get trained in the absence, the never again, the there-but-now-gone. Emotions, after all, could be so strong that they could warp reality—not in the sense that mourning could resurrect what had been lost, but more like grief could sharpen recollection to such painful degrees that it was as if you could call the person to you, touch them . . . hold them.

people didn't have to be dead to be out of your life.