Quotes About Reminiscence

And all at once it was as it had been before, on that gusty August day during the war, and she was twenty-three years old again, with holes in her sneakers, and Papa sitting beside her. And Richard walked in; into the gallery and into their lives. And Papa told him, They will come...to paint the warmth of the sun and the colour of the wind. And that was how it had all begun.

The past was filling the room like a tide of whispers.

Que adiantava eu perguntar se ele se lembrava de uma coisa que ele queria se esquecer? Quem queria se lembrar era eu, que não queria construir nada de novo

She chuckled to herself and wiped her eyes with her crooked old finger. Sometimes when she told stories about the past her eyes would get teary from all the memories she had, but they weren't tears. She wasn't crying. They were just the memories, leaking out.

Sometimes you can remember everything about an old friend, down to minor details about his behaviour, but for the life of you you can't picture his face.

There is, however, a power that is called memory. It should be dear to all the good ones as well as to all lovers. Yes, it may even be so dear to lovers that they almost prefer this whisper of memory to the sight of each other, as when they say, "Do you remember that time, and do you remember that time?

Rani, too, was perpetuating memories. Harappa the martyr, the demigod, lived on in his daughter's thoughts; but no two sets of memories ever match, even when their subject is the same (...)

remember that it is the dead alone with whom we are not likely to meet again on this earth.

No, my life has been passed in frivolity; I wish to forget it myself.

Some things are best remembered the way you want to remember them, like this road, these stars, this girl right beside him as they walk into the center of the cold night, looking straight ahead.

Like exiles, their delight was not in where they now found themselves but in whatever they could remember about the place, and the time, they had abandoned.

He put his hand out to his daughter, pulled her up easily over the edge. And then bent to gather the shoes and toys, swinging the canvas straps of the two toy machine guns over his shoulder (surprised to find that some mistaken memory had caused him—momentarily—to be surprised to find they had no weight). Jacob

What she wants to do if she can get the time to do it, is not so much to live in the past as to open it up and get one good look at it.

The job she had to do, as she saw it, was to remember everything—and by "remember" she meant experience it in her mind, one more time—then store it away forever. This day's experience set in order, none of it left ragged or lying about, all of it gathered in like treasure and finished with, set aside.

Samuel walked out to Lindsey then, and there she was in his arms, my sweet butterball babe, born ten years after my fourteen years on Earth: Abigail Suzanne. Little Susie to me. Samuel placed Susie on a blanket near the flowers. And my sister, my Lindsey, left me in her memories, where I was meant to be.

Buckley kept the shoe on his dresser, until one day it wasn't there anymore and no amount of looking for it could turn it up.

Strange now to think of you, gone without corsets & eyes, while I walk on the sunny pavement of Greenwich Village. downtown Manhattan, clear winter noon, and I've been up all night, talking, talking, reading the Kaddish aloud, listening to Ray Charles blues shout blind on the phonograph

Plus grands sont les amours, plus courte est la mémoire Vous l'avez oublié, nous en sommes tous là ; Le cÅ"ur le plus aimant n'est qu'une vaste armoire. On fait deux tours, et puis voilà.

Comes to be everything reminds you of something past. Somewhere past. Someone. Yourself, maybe, how you were. The now gets fainter and the past more and more real. The future worn down to but a stub.

It is easy to speak of the past, impossible to go there.

Logen still remembered the first time he had to leave someone behind, remembered it like it was yesterday. Strange how the boy's name had gone but the face was with him still.

Eszébe jutott Frieflif sörének íze, és megnyalta a szája szélét, de ekkor elkapta Rulf rosszalló pillantását, és egyb?l eszébe jutott Friedlif sörének íze, amikor éppen visszafelé jött.

When men say things used to be better, they invariably mean they were better for them, because they were young, and had all their hopes intact.

I remember a little girl who had a white rabbit coat and hat and muff. Actually, I don't remember the little girl. I remember the coat and the hat and the muff.