Quotes About Reminiscence

And the men that were boys when I was a boy Shall sit and drink with me.

There is nothing that makes a man more self-satisfied than a poor memory.

The little boy in him was crestfallen that he wasn't going on the adventure. Then he reminded himself that he was already part of the biggest adventure ever, and that, so far, it had been altogether miserable.

When the gangplanks are drawn in from the stone edge of the Bund, they are cut off from a whole world that they'll never see again, a world where they were kings. Now they are Marines again.

There were, in other words, plenty of lovely things to discover at the time and to reminisce about later.

Everything around me makes me miss you.

And if, in some distant place in the future, we see each other in our new lives, I will smile at you with joy, and remember how we spent a summer beneath the trees, learning from each other and growing in love.

The way he spoke about Catherine made Theresa hurt for him more than she would have imagined. It wasn't just his voice, but the look on his face before he described her - as if torn between the beauty of his memories and the pain of remembering.

We spend so much time making up for things we failed to say, she mused. If only, she began for the thousandth time, the images of those days beginning to flash behind her eyes like a slide show she was powerless to stop

My time in high school and college, more than 30 years ago, has been ridiculously distorted.

High? Low. Just like the old days. If you say so.

Einmal, Mutter, in einer anderen Zeit, habe ich mit meinen beiden Händen zum Abschied deinen Kopf umspannt, seine Form ist als Abdruck in meinen Handflächen geblieben, auch Hände haben ein Gedächtnis.

Remembering was pointless; but forgetting somehow seemed immoral.

La gente ha la fastidiosa abitudine di ricordarsi le cose che non dovrebbe

Afterward I remembered these things very clearly, with that longing we feel sometimes to recover a state of life that we have lost for ever, though perhaps that we have lost it is all its value.

Her past life had become a sort of fairy tale, to which she listened gladly and asked questions. After the treatment had continued for two or three weeks she began to exclaim, "I believe I remember that!

Neither my father nor grandfather could put dates to their stories. Not because they had forgotten or were confused; the past was simply the past.

Neither my father nor grandfather could put dates to their stories. Not because they had forgotten or were confused; the past was simply the past. I remember hearing from my grandfather that he had once shipped a boatful of slaves as a cargo of rubber. He couldn't tell me when he had done this. It was just there in his memory, floating around, without date or other association, as an unusual event in an uneventful life.

Oh! Everything I loved!

They were moments when she was suddenly reminded of her child, and perhaps also of the man she had loved; the breaking of links with the past is a painful thing.

She knew sorrow would hit her later, hit her hard, the sudden, aching realization that her father was Gone, that she'd never pick up the phone and hear his voice again, or go to her mailbox and get a letter written in his bold, sweeping hand.

Memories--even the best of them--faded.

She sat there a long time, talking to her daddy as if he were sitting right beside her.

Inside, the house echoed the voice of a man who wasn't there.