Quotes About Reminiscence

The past is always close, so close you can sing along with it, anytime you like.

It was hard to venture back near the place you had been bred without settling into the characteristics of the person you had been there.

I often told myself I didn't mind aging, but now I found myself constantly wishing I was young and that I could do it all over again, and differently.

We'll always have yesterday.

Please send me your last pair of shoes, worn out with dancing as you mentioned in your letter, so that I might have something to press against my heart.

do they know when we are well and happy? do they know when we recall their memories with the fondest love? In the silent hour of evening the shade of my mother hovers around me; when seated in the midst of my children, I see them assembled near me, as they used to assemble near her; and then I raise my anxious eyes to heaven, and wish she could look down upon us, and witness how I fulfil the promise I made to her in her last moments, to be a mother to her children.

What was our life like? I almost don't remember now. Though I remember it, the space of time it occupied. And I remember it fondly.

I tend to live in the past because most of my life is there.

The next thing most like living one's life over again seems to be a recollection of that life, and to make that recollection as durable as possible by putting it down in writing.

I consider always the adult life to be the continuous retrieval of childhood.

It all seems so sad, so unbearably sad for a second, to think of the lovely old maple with the swing. We never told the tree how much we loved it. We never gave it a name, never did anything for it.

The story ended a long time ago

Father, it's Wistala. Wistala." Father grimaced. "You're a star, Wistala — I saw you twinkling beneath dear Irelia last night. You, Auron, and Jizara all in a row. I'll be up there soon. Wait.

Do you remember Italy?

She lowered her eyes a moment to the black abyss of the past.

If I could be small again, Monique told me at the playground's fence, slurring her words and watching Caitlin sob, I'd want to have a friend like her.

Kokusunu çoktan unuttu?um bir zaman diliminde bile, ken­dini parma??n a?z?na as?l? an?ms?yorsan, öykü ba?lam??t?r. öykü, annenin sümerce bir yenilgi yaz?t? olmas?d?r. baba, her zaman oldu?u gibi karanl?k bir kap? aral???, dikenli bir kilit sesi. o içeri girdi?inde, sen art?k hep d??ardas?n.

Cities, in many ways, are the best repositories for a love affair. You are in a forest or a cornfield, you are walking by the seashore, footprint after footprint of trodden sand, and somehow the kiss or the spoken covenant gets lost in the vastness and indifference of nature. In a city there are places to remind us of what has been.

We all dream of being a child again, even the worst of us. Perhaps the worst most of all.

Some folks never exaggerate — they just remember big.

My grandmother made me a scrapbook because I was once too young to remember; I am making scrapbooks for my family because one day I may be too old to remember.

People seem to get nostalgic about a lot of things they weren't so crazy about the first time around.

Memories cartwheel out of her head & tumble across the floor.

Where do memories go once we've lost our ability to summon them? It