Quotes About Remembrance

She took his hand, squeezed it, held it, and then, all at once, she let it drop. But the actual touch of her lingered, inside his heart. That remained. In all the years of his life ahead, the long years without her, with never seeing her or hearing from her or knowing anything about her, if she was alive or happy or dead or what, that touch stayed locked within him, sealed in himself, and never went away.

In addition, no one today remembered why the war had come about or who, if anyone, had won.

Simple Shepherd Mortuary

Además, nadie recordaba hoy por qué había estallado la guerrra, ni quién- Si alguien- había ganado.

We fought the Nazis, too, we 'good' Germans; verges' uns nei . Forget us never...The first human beings to fight to the death, to kill and be killed by the Nazis were - Germans.

Home is so sad. It stays as it was left, / Shaped to the comfort of the last to go / As if to win them back

Lives had been spent here—people had loved one another and eaten and drunk and laughed and betrayed and been afraid of death—and not a single fragment of that remained. White stones, black shadows.

It was impossible to believe that Alan was lying in that pale, plain pine box merely from having caught a summertime disease. That box from which you cannot force your way out. That box in which a twelve-year-old was twelve years old forever. The rest of us live and grow older by the day, but he remains twelve. Millions of years go by, and he is still twelve.

To be alive, to him, is to be made of memory—to him if a man's not made of memory, he's made of nothing.

What if we chose to regard the 2,973 innocents killed in the terrorist attacks of 9/11 as heroes and martyrs, 'sacrifices on the altar of freedom'?

Edward   Once they're dead, I find they keep changing. You think you've got hold of them. And it's like you say, 'Oh I see. So that's what she was like.' But then they change again in your memory. It drives you crazy. Now I'd like to find out just who she was.

This is what a memorial is: standing still, staring at something that isn't ther

Gone is not forgotten, but our lives cannot be a memorial. This city cannot be a memorial. This city has to be a city. Our lives have to be our lives.

I couldn't remember ordinary moments, only the ones that had made an impression. Ordinary moments were the ones that fell away first.

This is what a memorial is: Standing still, staring at something that isn't there.

In small letters, someone has written NEVER FORGET on one of the slats. I know it's supposed to be a pledge, but it feels like a curse. Don't we have to forget some of it? Don't we have to forget this feeling? If we don't, how will we live?

I think that if you were somehow able to measure the weight of human kindness, it would have weighed more on 9/11 than it ever had.

I still find it hard to see Ground Zero. I still find it hard to witness the nothingness. The lights are not a remedy for this. There will never be a remedy for this. But they are a strikingly apt presence. They are both something and nothing at once. They fill the space without claiming it as their own. They are translucent. They blur.

If this continues, if this goes on, then when I die, your memories of me will be my greatest accomplishment. Your memories will be my most lasting impression.

once time is lit, it twill burn whether or not you're breathing it in. even after smoke becomes air there is the memory of smoke

Defunct, adj. You brought home a typewriter for me.

There are worse fates than being forgotten.

Maybe there is some solace to be derived in that: bacchanal or funeral, after enough time, the detritus looks the same.

Well the nation may forget; it may shut its eyes to the past, but the colored people of this country are bound to keep fresh a memory of the past till justice shall be done them in the present."39