Quotes About Remembrance

No buffalo has been known to have die without living its horns behind for posterity. Yes! i.e. you shouldn't live and die without leaving your footprints behind for posterity. So, endeavour to leave your footprints behind.

No buffalo has been known to have died without living its horns behind for posterity. Yes! i.e. you shouldn't live and die without leaving your footprints behind for posterity. So, endeavour to leave your footprints behind.

The most burning question. What will you be remembered for after your demise? Will you be remembered for good or bad, peace or war, stinginess or generosity?

A Drunkard cannot meet a CorkWithout a Revery—And so encountering a FlyThis January DayJamaicas of Remembrance stirThat send me reeling in.

The loss of her is already too much and then there's the other thing – the end of being loved in the way only my sister could love me. What I feel for her survives and that hurts like battery acid every minute, but worse is that what she felt for me died with her. I will never be loved like that again.

Glory is the sun of the dead.

In places where a loved one has died, time stops for eternity.

Al recordar su sonrisa, no sé por qué, me duele el corazón.

Sul campo di battaglia della memoria giacevano le spoglie di tutto quanto si era piegato a forze invisibili, dei pensieri di ciò che era svanito lasciando soltanto le emozioni dietro di sè. L'avrei attraversato giorno dopo giorno, imprimendo le orme dei miei passi come si offrono fiori.

Truly great people emit a light that warms the hearts of those around them. When that light has been put out, a heavy shadow of despair descends. Perhaps Eriko's was only a minor kind of greatness, but her light was sorely missed.

They say you die twice. One time when you stop breathing and a second time, a bit later on, when somebody says your name for the last time

I mean, they say you die twice. One time when you stop breathing and a second time, a bit later on, when somebody says your name for the last time.

I was thinking of Anna. I make myself think of her, I do it as an exercise. She is lodged in me like a knife and yet I am beginning to forget her. Already the image of her that I hold in my head is fraying, bits of pigments, flakes of gold leaf, are chipping off. Will the entire canvas be empty one day?

He wanted to etch into his heart these memories, and wondered how he could have forgotten this tragedy for so many years.

And I will do everything that I can as long as I am President of the United States to remind the American people that we are one nation under God, and we may call that God different names but we remain one nation.

You'll always be with me, Mom. Kind of like Jordan's perennials. Every year, something'll bloom in my life to remind me of you. It'll always be different, never the same, but it'll be good. Love lasts.

When we lose someone we love, we can either die with them or live on to celebrate their life.

When we lose someone we love, we can either die with them or live on to celebrate their life. I'm tired of focusing on what we lost. I want to focus on what we had.

There's a graveyard in northern France where all the dead boys from D-Day are buried. The white crosses reach from one horizon to the other. I remember looking it over and thinking it was a forest of graves. But the rows were like this, dizzying, diagonal, perfectly straight, so after all it wasn't a forest but an orchard of graves. Nothing to do with nature, unless you count human nature.

And yet why should she not be allowed her occasional joys, such very mild ones, which were mostly remembrance of things past?

Mrs. Wardell wagged her finger and stood up to go. 'But you're looking very nice in your blue velvet,' she said. 'I must rush off now. Old Dr. Fremantle and his wife are coming to supper. So depressing.' She sighed. 'Reminiscences of Oxford in the eighties, with a few daring little academic jokes. And poor Olive's so dreary.

You forget the things you want to remember and remember the things you want to forget.

I'm beneath notice. As it should be. [...] then I'm gone as if I've never been here. And soon, it will be as though I never were. I am going to join Lola in the memory hole. It is my proper place. It is where I deserve to be consigned. [...] Once she forgets me, maybe then she can remember. And that, more than anything, will count as me doing something productive.

God is the one who always remembers those whom history has forgotten.