Quotes About Remembrance

What I mean to say is, we had been considerable. Had been loved. Not lonely, not lost, not freakish, but wise, each in his or her own way. Our departures caused pain. Those who had loved us sat upon their beds, heads in hand; lowered their faces to tabletops, making animal noises. We had been loved, I say, and remembering us, even many years later, people would smile, briefly gladdened at the memory.

But hopeful dear us, we forget.

Because Greek myths encode certain primary biological and social confrontations and self-perceptions in the history of man, they endure as an animate legacy in collective remembrance and recognition. We come home to them as to our psychic roots.

J'écris : j'écris parce que nous avons vécu ensemble, parce que j'ai été un parmi eux, ombre au milieu de leurs ombres, corps près de leur corps ; j'écris parce qu'ils ont laissé en moi leur marque indélébile et que la trace en est l'écriture : leur souvenir est mort à l'écriture ; l'écriture est le souvenir de leur mort et l'affirmation de ma vie.

Why, her father would turn in his grave--well, as a matter of fact, he was cremated, but what I mean is, if he hadn't been he would have. [Ermyntrude]

The best place to bury a dead love is deep in the depths of memory where it can be cherished forever.

She could forget a face, an appointment or a good resolution but her memory for dogs was always phenomenal.

If love leaves an echo, I said, she is still with me.

When you lose a loved one, you come to these crossroads. You can take the path that leads you down the aisle of sadness, or you can say, 'I'm never going to let this person's memory die. I'm going to make sure everything they worked for continues.'

The dead play a very prominent part in the experience of the wanderer abroad. The houses in which they were born, the tombs in which they lie, the localities they made famous by their good or evil deeds, and the works their genius left behind them are necessarily the chief shrines of his pilgrimage.

We build our legacy piece by piece, and maybe the whole world will remember you or maybe just a couple of people, but you do what you can to make sure you're still around after you're gone.

We who go out to die shall be remembered, because we gave the world peace. That will be our reward, though we will know nothing of it, but lie rotting in the earth - dead.

I remember Tim Meadows gave me a radio. It was a radio he didn't want anymore. I gave it to my grandmother, and she had it 'til the day she died. To me, it was, 'I got a thing from Tim Meadows!' I think my grandmother was like, 'I got a thing from my grandson!'

At times I've got a really big ego. But I'll tell you the best thing about me. I'm some guy's dad; I'm some little gal's dad. When I die, if they say I was Annie's husband and Zachary John and Anna Kate's father, boy, that's enough for me to be remembered by. That's more than enough.

Our military, police, and first responders risk their lives to protect ours, and so today - and every day - we should thank those who serve and honor those we've lost.

We can't change the past but we can learn from history and remember the important things - the sacrifices our loved ones made, and the price of our freedom today.

It's a funny thing, but today the Titanic is probably much more - that is people are much more aware of it than they were in 1954, when I was doing my research.

To be successful in struggle requires remembrance of the Creator and the doing of good deeds. This is important because successful struggle demands that there be a kind of social consciousness. There has to be a social commitment, a social consciousness that joins men together.

Before the Holocaust," Paul was explaining to Daryl now, "when someone tripped on a paving stone in the road, the folk saying went, A Jew must be buried there. So the stumble stones take the old folk saying

How quickly the world plows us under, she thought with a pang. For two generations, maybe three, we lived on. After that, we're nothing more than a name, or—her eye fell on one of Great-Aunt Minerva's chairs standing like a sentry against the wall—a part of the furniture.

Ogden Moss Milton Nov. 11, 1899–Oct. 4, 1980 Katherine Milton May 4, 1905–Sept. 10, 1988 Ogden Moss Milton Jr. March 17, 1930–Aug. 22, 1959 Evelyn Milton Pratt April 18, 1937–March 24, 2017

That was the thing. You never got used to it, the idea of someone being gone. Just when you think it's reconciled, accepted, someone points it out to you, and it just hits you all over again, that shocking.

That was the thing. You never got used to it, the idea of someone being gone. Just when you think it's reconciled, accepted, someone points it out to you, and it just hits you all over again, that shocking.

And the air was rent with cries of the living glaring at the rotted bones and rags of their kin and friends just a-swingin in the winds circling about the land, and pulling the bones and rags--some crumbling and dry, some still squirming with the worms eating away at them--from those once mighty roots, and putting them back in the gaping holes.