Quotes About Remembrance

The good and the beautiful is not forgotten; it lives in legend and in song.

It's not the dead even. They're gone. Nothing you can do about that. It's what's left behind - the echo. These woods you're walking through. There are some old timers who think a sound echoes here forever. Makes sense when you think about it. That Billingham kid. I'm sure he screamed. He screams, it echoes, just bounces back and forth, the sound getting smaller and smaller, but never entirely disappearing. Like a part of his is still calling out, even now.

The pain flooded in again. It was always there, of course. Through the shaking hands and slapping of the backs, the grief stayed by his side, tapping Griffin on the shoulder, whispering in his ear, reminding him that they were partners for life.

I believe that you live on inside the hearts and minds of everyone you've touched while you were here on earth.

In his brief 21 years on this earth, Michael Smith Jr. touched countless lives.

Only after she had passed away did I fully comprehend to what extent she had truly touched everyone.

Rajiv was a very gentle and extremely jovial person. It is so tough to believe that he is gone.

When my grandfather died, I was on tour, and I didn't go to the funeral. I never got to say goodbye, and this is one of the problems of being in a rock band is that you're away, and your loved ones die, and you can't even see them.

In American military cemeteries all over the world, seemingly endless rows of whitened grave markers stand largely unvisited and in silence. The gardeners tend the lawns, one section at a time. Even at the famous sites, tourism is inconstant.

That, for me, is the only real legacy: the idea that one has left a lingering trace in people's memories. In the end, that's all a director can hope to do.

I don't want any memorials or a grave which my children would have to look after or feel guilty about. I don't want to leave any trace except for the work I have done.

When I am gone, my love, do not look for me in the places we used to go to together. Look for me in the places we always planned to go to together.

Every loss which we incur leaves behind it vexation in the memory, save the greatest loss of all, that is, death, which annihilates the memory, together with life.

Two years ago your father died, Ulysses. But as long as we are alive, as long as we are together, as long as two of us are left, and remember him, nothing in the world can take him from us.

The wilderness does not make you forget your normal life so much as it removes the distractions for proper remembering.

For my boyhood's friend hath fallen, the pillar of my trust, The true, the wise, the beautiful, is sleeping in the dust.

We should be considerate to the living; to the dead we owe only the truth.

Everyone I have lost in the closing of a door the click of the lock is not forgotten, they do not die but remain within the soft edges of the earth, the ash of house fires and cancer in sin and forgiveness huddled under old blankets dreaming their way into my hands, my heart closing tight like fists. - "Indian Boy Love Song #1

He looked at her as if he hadn't seen her in a very long time. Or perhaps, as if he might never see her again, and must memorize her features one by one.

Carolyn had told me that while he was still able, Bob had arranged to have his favorite words from his favorite work of Dickens inscribed on his grave marker, but still I was unprepared for their effect when actually seen. Engraved across the granite face of the footstone was the epitaph by which Bob DeMatteis had chosen to be remembered: "And it was always said of him that he knew how to keep Christmas well.

I paid a visit to Yasukuni Shrine to pray for the souls of those who had fought for the country and made ultimate sacrifices. I have made a pledge never to wage war again, that we must build a world that is free from the sufferings of the devastation of war.

I mention her name and the old pain returns. Forget her, you say? How can you forget a living human being?

Grief is not a record of what has been lost but of who has been loved. In the end, we weep not only for the death of someone but for the startling question that faces us: what shall we do with the love we have for the deceased? Where will we put it?

When they die no one will ever know that once they lived.