Quotes About Remembrance

Soon or late, every dog's master's memory becomes a graveyard; peopled by wistful little furry ghosts that creep back unbidden, at times, to a semblance of their olden lives.

Soldiers' graves are the greatest preachers of peace.

The only thing of importance, when we depart, will be the traces of love we have left behind.

Your eyes begin in my eyes which no longer see you. Begin in my voice which no longer speaks to you. Die out in my hands which no longer touch you. Your eyes are inscribed in my flesh. No one can bear to see me now. Sinister tattoo. I do the rain, I do the sun. For want of your eyes in my eyes.

Memory near oblivion. Far death

Si nos espera el olvido, tratemos de no merecerlo.

Isabel's indelible absence is now an organ in our bodies whose sole function is a continuous secretion of sorrow.

If there are more dead than living, then the world is about death, and the question is: What are we to do with all the death? Who is going to remember all the dead?

Only the past matters, because it is the only thing that outlives everything and everyone.

Death leaves a heartache no one can heal; love leaves a memory no one can steal.

Sometimes, I think I know what my grandparents were listening for. Sound waves don't ever go away. Not one sound goes away. The wave simply expands, infinitely. The sound remains. Imagine a cosine arc the size of Jupiter, and that might be the size of the wave of the last thing Peter ever said. I'd need an ear the size of another solar system to hear him again.

Oh, when we are journeying through the murky night and the dark woods of affliction and sorrow, it is something to find here and there a spray broken, or a leafy stem bent down with the tread of His foot and the brush of His hand as He passed; and to remember that the path He trod He has hallowed, and thus to find lingering fragrance and hidden strength in the remembrance of Him as " in all points tempted like as we are," bearing grief for us, bearing grief with us, bearing grief like us.

Remembrance and reflection how allied. What thin partitions divides sense from thought.

Men must be taught as if you taught them not the things unknown, but the things forgotten.

The Eucharist is the sacrament of cosmic remembrance: it is indeed a restoration of love as the very life of the world.

We bury love; Forgetfulness grows over it like grass: That is a thing to weep for, not the dead.

A tomb now suffices him for whom the whole world was not sufficient

The reluctance of so many of today's Germans to court pity for their ancestors' suffering, to invoke the allied bombings and postwar expulsions, is a kind of tacit acknowledgment of how many knew of the Nazi atrocities at the time.

It's a sobering fact, the historian Timothy Snyder points out, that 'cultures of memory are organized by round numbers, intervals of ten; but somehow the remembrance of the dead is easier when the numbers are not round, when the final digit is not a zero.

What is important is the story. Because when we are all dust and teeth and kicked-up bits of skin - when we're dancing with our own skeletons - our words might be all that's left of us.

Demoro verte. No quiero verte. Porque temo destruir el recuerdo de la última vez que te vi.

I miss Lisa 'Left Eye' every day. Watched her VH1 special many times. A tragedy. But I didn't see the movie based on her.

Sometimes when I'm watching television and something, an image, will come on that has to do with 9/11 or some of these families telling their stories, or children talking about drawing pictures of airplanes flying into towers, you know, I find myself still choking up.

We cannot get by Auschwitz. We should not even try, as great as the temptation is, because Auschwitz belongs to us, is branded into our history, and - to our benefit! - has made possible an insight that could be summarized as, 'Now we finally know ourselves.'