Quotes About Remembrance

THEY bury their dead in vaults, above the ground. These vaults have a resemblance to houses—sometimes to temples; are built of marble, generally; are architecturally graceful and shapely; they face the walks and driveways of the cemetery; and when one moves through the midst of a thousand or so of them and sees their white roofs and gables stretching into the distance on every hand, the phrase 'city of the dead' has all at once a meaning to him.

Let us live so that when we come to die, even the undertaker will be sorry.

a good deed ain't ever forgot.

All I could hold but in the end not save. Of course I lost everything. I lost her number, I lost her, and then in a fugue of erasure, I lost the memory of her, so that by the time she called she was gone along with the kisses and the promise and all that hope.

Better that we leave the paint behind, Hans told her, than ever forget the music.

Stars of David were plastered to their shirts, and misery was attached to them as if assigned. Don't forget your misery... In some cases, it grew on them like a vine.

Liesel was sure her mother carried the memory of him, slung over her shoulder. She dropped him. She saw his feet and legs and body slap the platform.

A Jew had once saved his life and he couldn't forget that. He couldn't join a party that antagonized people in such a way... Like many of the Jews believed, he didn't think the hatred could last...

A SMALL ANNOUNCEMENT *** ***ABOUT RUDY STEINER*** He didn't deserve to die the way he did.

Sometimes she would whisper the word Mama and see her mother's face a hundred times in a single afternoon.

Years ago, when they'd raced on a muddy field, Rudy was a hastily assembled set of bones, with a jagged, rocky smile. In the trees this afternoon, he was a giver of bread and teddy bears. He was a triple Hitler Youth athletics champion. He was her best friend. And he was a month away from his death. Of course I told him about you, Liesel said. She was saying goodbye and she didnt't even know it.

They were going to Dachau, to cencentrate.

She remained on the steps, waiting for Papa, watching the stray ash and the corpse of collected books. Everything was sad. Orange and red embers looked like rejected candy, and most of the crowd had vanished. She'd seen Frau Diller leave (very satisfied) and Pfiffikus (white hair, a Nazi uniform, the same dilapidated shoes, and a triumphant whistle). Now there was nothing but cleaning up, and soon, no one would ever imagine it had happened. But you could smell it.

Ich fürchte ebenfalls, dass am Ende gar nichts zu Ende sein wird. Die Dinge gehen einfach weiter, solange die Erinnerung das Sagen hat und immer eine weiche Stelle in deinen Gedanken findet, um an die Oberfläche zu schlüpfen.

Ho lasciato le mie impronte sul mondo, per quanto piccole.

Some of our best living is done through the people we leave behind.

Two German-held villages, Mametz and Montauban, were captured on July 1, as well as a German strongpoint, the Leipzig Redoubt. The human cost of the day's attack was higher than on any other single day of battle in the First World War. Just over a thousand British officers and more than 20,000 men were killed, and 25,000 seriously wounded.

I will think of you every time I need to be reminded that there is beauty and goodness in the world.

I began to feel that all the people I'd ever known who had died or left me had not in fact gone away, but continued to live on inside me just as this man's wife lived on inside him.

I began to feel that all the people I'd ever known who had died or left me had not in fact gone away, but continued to live on inside me

We must always keep something to remember those who have left us.

It is curious how sometimes the memory of death lives on for so much longer than the memory of the life that it purloined. Over the years, as the memory of Sophie Mol ... slowly faded, the Loss of Sophie Mol grew robust and alive. It was always there. Like a fruit in season. Every season. As permanent as a government job.

There are things that can be forgotten. And things that cannot - that sit on dusty shelves like stuffed birds with baleful, sideways staring eyes.

It is curious how sometimes the memory of death lives on for so much longer than the memory of the life that it purloined. Over