Quotes About Reminiscence

She said that room up there is a remembering room and when she is up there remembering all those things fill up the room and when the room is too full they fly out the window.

Her new friends especially liked the southern phrases she recalled from her childhood, such as her father's remark that 'if I hadn't sold that Coca Cola stock I could just sit and pat my foot.

Sometimes I caught my mother digging through old photo albums or staring at the wall or out the window. She'd get that look on her face that I knew meant she missed my father. Not enough to want him back. She missed him just enough for it to hurt. On

He Kept recalling her lying on his bed; she reminded him of no one in his former life.

Everything from a lifetime's worth of collecting things. You know as we go through life, and something stays and ends up on your shelf and lives there until you die? Just those little things.

As I get older, my childhood self becomes more accessible to me, but selectively, in images as stylized and suspect as moments remembered from a novel read years ago.

I have to start writing down things that happen, or I'll forget my life entirely.

The place was a familiar as breath but as far from his life now as the moon.

It is to live twice when we can enjoy the recollections of our former life.

everything is gone except traces of you inside me - and the years like the wind are sweeping those away ...

we went to watch the waves that bitter day and the wind took your red cap and mittens - blew them into the sea...

A madeleine moment - a sound, a scent can incant her presence...

The town was paper, but the memories were not.

Of all sad words of tongue and pen the saddest are these, what might have been.

His memory, like the world's, was getting spotty.

This will be a winter so desolate, only memory can fill the emptiness

Still thinking of you. Dr. S.

Despite the post-it note with her phone number on it, shes already little more than a fading memory. They all are.

He felt a keen regret that he had spoken so of Dave Masters, the defiant boy they both had loved, whose ghost had held them, all these years, in a friendship whose depth they had never quite realized.

When he leaned in to kiss me, it was like sliding back into the water on one of those long days at the beach, where you just get out so you can go back in again.

He couldn't remember his former babysitter's name. It was in the Elisa/Alyssa/Alicia vein, but he wasn't sure exactly which.

Nostalgia is a narcotic.

Backward, flow backward, O tide of the years! I am so weary of toil and of tears-- Toil without recompense, tears all in vain-- Take them, and give me my childhood again!

The basket of remembrance has three sides; one is open, can it tilt and spill out?