Quotes About Remembrance

There has been only one Christmas the rest are anniversaries.

They will only care when you're gone.

Memory is the sense of loss, and loss pulls us after it.

Because we looked away in the past, does that mean we can look away now? Page 76

Titanic started a voyage through history when it sailed away. One century later, there is still no port at sight.

El olvido está tan lleno de memoria / que a veces no caben las remembranzas / y hay que tirar rencores por la borda / en el fondo el olvido es un gran simulacro / nadie sabe ni puede / aunque quiera /olvidar

y eso tampoco si habito en tu memoria no estaré solo

De todos modos preparamos la boca por si vuela un beso y si no vuela siempre queda uno que emerge del olvido.

El Olvido está lleno de Memoria

I have lost things I will never stop missing.

When President Franklin Delano Roosevelt died, First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt was comforted by a piece of poetry given to her by a friend: They are not dead who live in lives they leave behind: In those whom they have blessed they live a life again.2

The Founding Fathers are always spinning in their graves over something, as is Ronald Reagan, or FDR. Edward R. Murrow is a perennial grave spinner in the news business (though in fact, Murrow was cremated).

The world is running out of good places for ashes. The Jade Rabbit

The most important way of remembering someone is by being the person they made us — at least in part — and living the life they have helped shape. Sometimes they are not worth remembering. In that case, our most important existential task is to expunge them from the narrative of our lives. But when they are worth remembering, then being someone they have helped fashion and living a life they have helped forge are not only how we remember them they are how we honour them.

I lost my father this past year, and the word feels right because I keep looking for him. As if he were misplaced. As if he could just turn up, like a sock or a set of keys.

The graves grow deeper. The dead are more dead each night. Under the elms and the rain of leaves, The graves grow deeper. The dark folds of the wind Cover the ground. The night is cold. The leaves are swept against the stones. The dead are more dead each night. A starless dark embraces them. Their faces dim. We cannot remember them Clearly enough. We never will.

Pino's head swung slowly back and forth. "But where will I go to . . ." "See her?" his father said. "You go to where you were both happiest, and she'll always be there. I promise you that.

the world. They died in the 1980s.

They found the Jews, bound their wrists and ankles, and threw them into Lake Maggiore, where they were machine-gunned to death.

Forgotten Front." Much of the amnesia was caused by Italians who'd

The old English preacher Charles Spurgeon said: "A good character is the best tombstone. Those who loved you, and were helped by you, will remember you when forget-me-nots are withered. Carve your name on hearts and not marble.

It is human to exaggerate the merits of the dead.

In Moscow they do not pay much attention to the living but keep their cemeteries in a splendid state.

Yes it's her husband. She hasn't got over it. Died thirty years ago.