Quotes About Reminiscence

When I was a boy, I'd hide under the kitchen table and wind string around the chairs. I have a sense now that I am pulling on those threads. The more I pull, the more it comes unraveled.

Steven Adler and I played football in the street when we were 12. I remember rehearsing in my bedroom with my first band, and some kid climbed over the fence of my backyard and peeked his head in the window to see who was rocking. It was Slash.

Sometimes, I'm driving along in my car, and a song from my high-school years comes on the radio: Springsteen's 'Thunder Road.' Just the opening few chords make me want to roll down the window and let the wind blow back my hair.

I really liked 'Green Wing'. I wish something like that could come back.

C'mon, I mean who didn't listen to 'The Who' in the 60s?

That's kind of the theme of Own the Night. It's about those nights that are so memorable you could live them forever.

but more than anything, the homecoming nomination made me feel as though I was being pushed back into a world I was happy to leave behind

But maybe it was better this way, remembering those few months at the beginning of the year as this wonderful thing was over now, rather than living in Cassidy's world without her

You don't need a time machine if you know how to remember.

Remembering bred its own peculiar sorrow. It seemed so unfair: that time should render both sadness and happiness into a source of pain.

He was increasingly irritable and suspicious, and a cantankerous mood could fly over him as quickly as the shadow of a bird. But Jesse was neither close-mouthed nor sulky for long, and over the weeks that he and Charley were on the road, he unscrolled yarns and anecdotes that excited interest in Charley only insofar as they permitted him a corresponding reminiscence.

Never in her life had she thought so much about him before. Twice in two minutes!

She smelled of Marlboros, Aviance Night Musk, and her first drink of the late afternoon.

still kept. Rose and the girls were hooting

Como é que se matam saudades não é coisa que se explique de um modo claro. Ele não há ferro nem fogo, corda nem veneno, e todavia as saudades expiram, para a ressurreição, alguma vez antes do terceiro dia. Há quem creia que, ainda mortas, são doces, mais que doces. Esse ponto, no nosso caso, não pode ser ventilado, nem eu quero desenvolvê-lo, como aliás cumpria.

Você ainda se lembra da roça, Tomás? – Alembra, sim, senhor.

But my memories are like a fire in winter—whenever I'm cold I can warm my hands at them. —Ditta

she didn't remember much else.

The memories were so vivid that the book dropped from my hand and my eyes filled with tears.

That happens you know, as you grow older – you can't tell the dreams from the memories.

What is the past but what we choose to remember?

Why do some memories live only on your tongue or in your nose? Why do others always stay in your heart?

But now that I am old, moving every year closer to the end of my life, I also feel closer to the beginning. And I remember everything that happened that day because it has happened many times in my life. The same innocence, trust, and restlessness, the wonder, fear, and loneliness. How I lost myself. I remember all these things. And tonight, on the fifteenth day of the eighth moon, I also remember what I asked the Moon Lady so long ago. I wished to be found.

When you touch a man's nostalgia, he is yours.