Quotes About Reminiscence

The widower only sighed and puffed his cigar fiercely out of the open window. Perhaps he was thinking of that far-away time—little better than five years ago, in fact; but such an age gone by to him—when he first met the woman for whom he had worn crape round his hat three days before.

Janie gave me a pen. Mrs. Tadworth gave me a doll. Matt

Memory is a funny thing sometimes.

It is strange how close the past is, even when you imagine it to be so far away. Strange how it can just jump out of a sentence and hit you. Strange how every object or word can house a ghost.

it isn't healthy to walk around no longer familiar streets, looking for memories that have been paved over

It is strange how close the past is, even when you imagine it to be so far away. Strange how it can just jump out of a sentence and hit you.

The past resides inside the present, repeating hiccuping, reminding you of all the stuff that no longer is. It bleeds out from road signs and plaques on park benches and songs and surnames and faves and the covers of books.

It's funny how, having nice thoughts in your head, it is so pleasant to pull them all out and think them all over again.

When we lose one we love, our bitterest tears are called forth by the memory of hours when we loved not enough.

When we lose someone we love, our bitterest tears are called forth by the memory of hours when we loved not enough.

When we lose one we love, our bitterest tears are called forth by the memory of hours when we loved not enough. If we always had smiled on the one who is gone, there would be no despair in our grief; and some sweetness would cling to our tears, reminiscent of virtues and happiness. For our recollections of veritable love—which indeed is the act of virtue containing all others—call from our eyes the same sweet, tender tears as those most beautiful hours wherein memory was born.

How do we know that it refers to the past? That is the real problem of memory.

i sve pomalo li?i na onu nekadašnju no?, izdvojenu iz drugih, obilježenu tajnom. Sve je bilo, a opet li?i na san, ni na ?emu ne mogu da se zaustavim jer ništa ne znam, a držim se sje?anja, uporno. Nijednog putokaza nemam za traženje i zadovoljavam se onim što je bilo, od toga je u meni ostao pun osje?aj, neistrošen i nezadovoljen, i ostao je nekakav sanjarski miris, druga dimenzija, mogu?nost izvan onoga što se obi?no dešava.

When you located someone from the past online, it was like finding that person trapped behind glass in the permanent collection of a museum. You knew they were still there, and it seemed to you as if they would stay there forever.

But later on, having met in childhood can turn out to have been the worst thing, because you and your friends might have nothing to say to each other anymore, except, 'Wasn't it funny that time in tenth grade

The memories come in pieces. Little bits of grit too small to pick up even with a wetted finer, too small even to hold in my gaze.

As Katie moved through the rooms, everything reminded her of everything:

You don't have to be sad to miss someone and wish they were still in your life.

There had been times when missing him had felt like someone had reached inside her and pulled out the part of her that remembered how to breathe. And times when she'd barely given the memories of him a second's worth of her time.

Sometimes we miss people, and it's beyond words.

Novelty has a way of intensifying memory. The less often you do something, the deeper the memory burrows in.

Moments fly, memories remain; and then memories fly, only memoirs remain and finally memoirs disappear, nothing remains!

We can't remember things from our future; remembering is merely the privilege and the beauty of the past!

You cannot separate the old furniture from the memories and the memories from the old furniture!