Quotes About Remembrance

Men are not only together when they are with each other; even the distant and the dead live with us.

I will always think of you and always love you.

Soon she would know him only in memory. Soon she would lose him.

The people who have been central to our lives are always there in us and always will be, even when they are no longer alive and we are not actually thinking about them. We are fortunate if our memories of them, conscious or unconscious, are happy ones. If we know and can feel deep down inside ourselves that they loved us constantly and unconditionally.

I still miss him. There is a loneliness and an emptiness where he was.

And after he was gone, there would be memories to live on. But she would not think of that yet.

Be careful," Aunt Blythe said. "The floor's riddled with dry rot." Forgetting her own warning, she plunged ahead, opening trunks and boxes, poking and pawing through things, reminiscing.

Het doet me aan mijn Giuliana denken... Ik ben haar voorgoed kwijt. - Enrico

A trophy carries dust. Memories last forever.

One's own dead are more than cadavers, they are place holders for the living. They are a focus, a receptacle, for emotions that no longer have one.

He will be lowered into a vat of liquid nitrogen and frozen. From here he will progress to the second chamber, where either ultrasound waves or mechanical vibration will be used to break his easily shattered self* into small pieces, more or less the size of ground chuck. The pieces, still frozen, will then be freeze-dried and used as compost for a memorial tree or shrub, either in a churchyard memorial park or in the family's yard.

This is a book about notable achievements made while dead.

And finally, my gratitude to UM 006, H, Mr. Blank, Ben, the big guy in the sweatpants, and the owners of the forty heads. You are dead, but you're not forgotten.

Others likened Diana to Jack Kennedy. Both had died too soon and too suddenly, cut down in their prime, to be remembered always as youthful and vibrant. One dear friend consoled me by saying, "Remember, Mary, she'll always be thirty-six, young and beautiful." Another close friend wrote, "We'll never know what she's been spared.

It is so long before the mind can persuade itself that she, whom we saw every day, and whose very existence appeared a part of our own, can have been extinguished, and the sound of a voice so familiar and dear to the ear can be hushed, never more to be heard.

Our house was the house of mourning.

William's mother, dead these six years. He spoke of her with love, but without grief. Six years, and whatever the loss, happiness steals back.

It is so long before the mind can persuade itself that she, whom we saw every day, and whose existence appeared a part of our own, can have departed for ever - that the brightness of a beloved eye can be extinguished, and the sound of a voice so familiar, and dear to the ear, can be hushed, never more to be heard.

He is dead who called me into being, and when I shall be no more the very remembrance of us both will speedily vanish.

I shall die. I shall no longer feel the agonies which now consume me, or be the prey of feelings unsatisfied, yet unquenched. He is dead who called me into being; and when I shall be no more, the very remembrance of us both will speedily vanish. I shall no longer see the sun or stars, or feel the winds play on my cheeks. Light, feeling, and sense, will pass away; and in this condition must I find my happiness.

I love you very tenderly. Remember me with affection, should you never hear from me again.

whom we saw every day, and whose very existence appeared a part of our own, can have departed forever—that the brightness of a beloved eye can have been extinguished, and the sound of a voice so familiar and dear to the ear can be hushed, never more to be heard.

This is thy funeral, this thy dirge!

It is so long before the mind can persuade itself that she whom we saw every day and whose very existence appeared a part of our own can have departed forever—that the brightness of a be- loved eye can have been extinguished and the sound of a voice so familiar and dear to the ear can be hushed, never more to be heard.