Quotes About Reminiscence

I loved you once long ago, Athis… you seemed to me a small, ungainly child.

Jack had been the love of her life and he was gone. It seemed now that there had never been bad times, though she knew that wasn't true.

I haven't been down to Navy Pier in such a long time. I know that's probably the touristy thing to do, but it just reminds me so much of 2000 when I was here shooting ["Hardball"].

If it's time to go, remember what you're leaving. Remember the best.

Old stories are like old friends, she used to say. You have to visit them from time to time.

The work of memory collapses time.

We met at nine We met at eight I was on time No, you were late Ah yes! I remember it well.

I'd go back to Leeds at any time, but not right now.

You can remember the second and the third and the fourth time, but there's no time like the first. It's always there.

I remember swallowing my tooth up in a high chair, but I definitely don't remember the first time I played bass. It was like, back there!

Perhaps that's how I should think of them, Polly thought, the troupe and Miss Snelgrove and Trot. And Sir Godfrey. Not as lost to her, but as removed to this moment in time for safekeeping.

As time passes, my story fades away.

If you love life you also love the past, because it is the present as it has survived in memory. Translation by David Downie

feelings and times long gone come and live again, or basic truths hard to keep in view return.

I shall try to conjure up each of the sentences engraved in my memory which were either so unbearable or so comforting to me at the time that the mere thought of them today engulfs me in a wave of horror or sweetness.

Frances is feeling a familiar yet unnameably old feeling. One she hadn't known was ever hers to forget. Happiness.

I could not remember the story with sufficient clarity.

Losing the memory of the experience itself to the memory of writing about it. Like people whose memories of places they've traveled to are in fact only memories of the pictures they took there. In the end, writing and photography probably destroy more of the past than they ever preserve of it. So it could happen: by writing about someone lost—or even just talking too much about them—you might be burying them for good.

talk about the times I see you. Each time my heart turns over. But why should it be that almost always the person I mistake for you is someone who looks like you not at the age when you died but at some other stage of your life.

Don't you have some songs, boyo?" she asked, after one of her songs. I didn't know any of them all the way through, but I sang the verses and choruses of all the songs we used to sing back on the Preserve: "Angel from Montgomery," "No Hard Feelings," "You Got Gold," "The Story.

It is to the prodigals...that the memory of their Father's house comes back. If the son had lived economically he would never have thought of returning.

I remember you. You were like burning firelight in that cave, all shimmery, dancing color. I lean closer over the island, mesmerized by his words, his hand on my face. If he keeps talking this way, he's going to see me like that again. Tell me you thought about me. That you think about me now. I thought about you, I whisper, I've never stopped thinking about you. Somehow I doubt I ever will.

Spoiled? Mum cuts her off with a laugh. Nonsense! There's nothing wrong with Minnie, is there, my precious? She knows her own mind! She strokes Minnie's hair fondly, then looks up again. Becky, love, you were exactly the same at her age. Exactly the same.

Funny how memories come back - sometimes in dribs and drabs, sometimes in enormous sweeps.