Quotes About Reminiscence

I still love you and I think about you everyday.

I havent talked to you in months but that doesnt mean you dont cross my mind every single day...

Happy times come and go, but the memories stay forever.

Tears which last a lifetime speak for the most cherished memories made.

But all I felt was the coolness against my ankle, where his fingers had been a moment before.

She glanced up to see that her mother was doing the same and she wanted to say, Do you think of her, do you still catch yourself listening for her footsteps, for her voice, for the sound of her breathing at night, because I do, all the time. I still think that one day I might wake and she will be there, next to me, again; there will have been some wrinkle or pleat in time and we will be back to where we were, when she was living and breathing.

One thousand ways to say good-bye One thousands ways to cry One thousand ways to hang your hat before you go outside I say good-bye good-bye good-bye I shout it out so loud Cause the next time that I find my voice I might not remember how.

If they Brought you back the old cafes, who will bring you back the old friends?

I will choose from my intimate memories what's fitting: the scent of wrinkled sheets after making love is the scent of grass after rain. — Mahmoud Darwish, from "Dense Fog Over The Bridge," If I Were Another: Poems . Translated by Fady Joudah. (Farrar, Straus and Giroux; 1 edition, October 27, 2009) Originally published 2009.

Tess, you need to forget what you don't remember and focus on what you do. You guys had, like, the epic summer. You'll never forget it. Hell, I won't forget it and I was just a jealous bystander.

I just wish I could have one more day with him… one more hour." "I'm sure he feels the same way," Shannon assured her. "Wherever he is.

Les souvenirs sont parfois comme ces photographies blanchies par le temps, dont les détails ressurgissent à la faveur d'un certain éclairage.

Les visages de ceux qu'on a le plus aimés s'effacent avec le temps, les voix s'oublient, mais les senteurs, jamais.

Once I had recognized the taste of the crumb of madeleine soaked in her decoction of lime flowers which my aunt used to give me… immediately the old gray house upon the street, where her room was, rose up like the scenery of a theater.

And then, gradually, the memory of her would fade away, I had forgotten the girl of my dream.

An hour or so later he received a note from Odette. Swann had left his cigarette case at her house. "If only," she wrote, "you had also forgotten your heart! I should never have let you have it back.

the remembrence of things past is not nessecarly the remeberance of things as they were

I felt that I did not really remember her except through the pain, and I longed for the nails that riveted her to my consciousness to be driven yet deeper.

Those who have played a big part in one's life very rarely disappear from it suddenly for good. They return to it at odd moments … before leaving it for good.

Car souvent j'ai voulu revoir une personne sans discerner qu c'était simplement parce qu'elle me rappelait un haie d'aubépines, et j'ai été induit à croir, à faire croire à un regain d'affection, par un simple désire de voyage.

But when from a long-distant past nothing subsists, after the people are dead, after the things are broken and scattered, still, alone, more fragile, but with more vitality, more unsubstantial, more persistent, more faithful, the smell and taste of things remain poised a long time, like souls, ready to remind us, waiting and hoping for their moment, amid the ruins of all the rest; and bear unfaltering, in the tiny and almost impalpable drop of their essence, the vast structure of recollection.

Why did you not forget your heart also? I should never have let you have that back." ...

De fantômes poursuivis, oubliés, recherchés à nouveau quelquefois pour une seule entrevue et afin de toucher à une vie irréelle laquelle aussitôt s'enfuyait, ces chemins de Balbec en étaient pleins.

It's a funny thing, now; I very often think of my poor wife, but I cannot think of her very much at any one time." "Often, but a little at a time, like poor old Swann," became one of my grandfather's favourite phrases, which he would apply to all kinds of things.