Quotes About Reminiscence

U]ns verband jene angenehme, anspruchslose Art von Freundschaft, die ausschließlich auf langer Dauer beruht. Wir hatten wenig gemeinsam, kannten aber sonst kaum jemanden, der sich an uns als Neunjährige beim Ponyreiten erinnerte; so hatten unsere gelegentlichen Begegnungen immer etwas Behagliches.

Later, your mother says, Didn't everything used to have a name?

Sometimes at night I think that my husband is with me again, coming gently through the mists, and we are tranquil together. Then the morning comes, the wavering grey turns to gold, there is stirring within me as the sleepers awake, and he softly departs.

Every day stole away more of her presence, leaving in its place faint wisps of memories devoid of color, scent, and sound.

An oft-told story is like a photograph in a family album; eventually, it replaces the moment it was meant to capture.

Memories of her, however, would remain with him. Everywhere he'd look, she would be there, as if she were a hundred women, all shadow and wraith, marking each place at Tyemorn and Ayleshire. He'd see her on the village road, smiling beneath an oak, straddling a furrow and laughing at something a companion had said. There again, tilting her head in an inquisitive look and offering advice on the line of the barn wall, or at night, when he could only see the outline of her form.

They only remembered the good times

One man's remorse is another man's reminiscence.

Andy [Griffith] and I spoke on the phone not too long before he died. I told him I loved him and he told me he loved me. He was a wonderful man.

Even now, sometimes on street corners... when I meet someone, I see your shadow. I'm sure that even now, you're still wearing that man's cologne... so you can sleep, even alone.

The spot of ground on which a man has stood is forever interesting to him.

Drawn to childhood, the old man will seek it in a thousand different ways.

There's a man in Mobile who remembers that Honus Wagner hit a triple in Pittsburgh 46 years ago. That's baseball.

I feel like a young man of 15.

A man never sees all that his mother has been to him until it's too late to let her know that he sees it.

Not so cold, some snow fell. I went inside the log cabin and said goodbye to Mother, she was so alike grandmother, just younger.

The experience of poetry could bring my mother back to me. Poetry offers a different kind of solace - here on earth.

I have lovely memories of Los Angeles in the 1930s. I came down to live with my mother's cousin and they invited me to come and go to junior college for a year.

I want to tell you how much I miss my mother. Bits of her are still there. I miss her most when I'm sitting across from her.

Be a child again. Flirt. Giggle. Dip your cookies in your milk. Take a nap. Say you're sorry if you hurt someone. Chase a butterfly. Be a child again.

My access to music when I was growing up was through pirate radio, you know, transistor radio under the pillow, listening to one more and then 'just one more' until your favourite track comes on.

Nothing recalls the past like music.

PHOTOGRAPHY is the best way, where you can SAVE your sweet PAST.

When you will have to search for long to collect other nine players to organize your usual five-a-side football match..you will realize to be old...