He would roam about the world carrying his recollections with him, and perhaps some day he would come to forget them, for one can live only by forgetting; but when his grief should dissolve with the years he would be left an empty man, like a smiling automaton, incapable of any affections other than meterial...

The past must remain tangible only from a distance and in its truest form, not appearing anymore precious than it was, lest it make the present unbearable. Memories are only for reminding which must never be mistaken for the reliving.

O for those days when these tired metaphors were teenagers too, when it was still possible to recite ‘Daffodils’ and feel thrilled as you gazed at the golden laburnum in bloom. Recognising clichés is a sign of aging. Sweet as the past may be, it best remains pressed within the pages of memory, savoured for...

To have memories, happy or sorrowful, is a blessing, for it shows we have lived our lives without reservation.

Some songs are never just ordinary songs, they become the memories you collect in your life.

I didn’t know what I wanted. Maybe I never had. The emotional distance was never worth the togetherness, and yet I didn’t learn. Nothing had changed. Had he reached for me, I would have forgotten to behave sensibly. Desire has no reason, and the need for intimacy had never stopped. I had not conjured up...

Memories carry thoughts through the passage of time.

There were a story scripted on the wall, no words used though, just pictures, memories, from another world. Her happy place.

Memories are weird. They never really leave you alone, no matter how much you try, and the funny part is–the more you try, the more they haunt you. The more you want to run away, the faster they seem to catch up, and then there comes a time when you are convinced that you have...

However much they may smile at her, the old inhabitants would miss Tillie. Her stories give them something to talk about and to conjecture about, cut off as they are from the restless currents of the world. The many naked little sandbars which lie between Venice and the mainland, in the seemingly stagnant water of...

More we remember more is chance to know who we are….

What you remember saves you.

He pulled his hand back, aware now that sweat beaded on his forehead and that Rale watched him, his eyes dark, intense. Errol licked his lips. Did he want a drink? He hadn’t gone more than two days in a row without a drink since he was…since…Warrel…the quarry…stone.

Good memories invite heaven.

At one point, she said after a while, at one point we thought we might raise silkworms in one of the empty rooms. But then we never did. Oh, for the countless things one fails to do!

Rich will be my life if I can keep my memories full and brimming, and record them on clear-eyed mornings while I set joyously to work setting pen to holy craft.

I fought for you, I fought for usI fought for the memories and the laughter that came upon us,Now here we are, we have become unknown people to each other,Worlds apart in an instant, for what once was is now goneSo tell me what your secret is to letting go like you did.

I have so many unforgettable memories, but setting the world record is a special one that I will live with forever.

Reflection is a good thing. It allows us to look back in time so we can connect the dots between specific memories to reveal the purpose and meaning behind synchronistic events.

It was growing dark on this long southern evening, and suddenly, at the exact point her finger had indicated, the moon lifted a forehead of stunning gold above the horizon, lifted straight out of filigreed, light-intoxicated clouds that lay on the skyline in attendant veils. Behind us, the sun was setting in a simultaneous congruent...

Humans are animals and like all animals we leave tracks as we walk: signs of passage made in snow, sand, mud, grass, dew, earth or moss…. We easily forget that we are track-markers, through, because most of our journeys now occur on asphalt and concrete–and these are substances not easily impressed.

real life nightmares kills me as an old man trying to escape from bad guilty memories who basically lives in the present.

A lot of great memories with Barry over the years. The thing I always appreciated about our relationship is that it was always amicable no matter the circumstances. You see so many rivalries like Ohio State-Michigan and Florida-Florida State get nasty. This one was never that way.

Yes, you are right! I am your leftover trash. I hope you know a bum got to eat too. I believe you were one when I met you.

The world is shaped by two things — stories told and the memories they leave behind.

The thing is, all memory is fiction. You have to remember that. Of course, there are things that actually, certifiably happened, things you can pinpoint the day, the hour, the minute. When you think about it, though, those things, mostly seem to happen to other people. This story actually happened, and it happened pretty much...

Let us not burthen our remembrance withA heaviness that’s gone.

Why could this darkness rip the gloominess around meHad an unknown reason of being fearful for so longThinking, if its touched by these horrendous windsWill unleash my sorrowful side & my mood swings!Aesthetically pleasing it is now, Couldn’t yearn for it to be any betterThis oasis of serenity though, I trust will cast away all...

Küçük şeyleri unutamayanlar, en geri hatıraları da unutamayanlardır. Hafızalarının bu bahtsız kuvveti karşısında hiçbir memleket, hiçbir vatan tutamadan her yeri, her şeyi severek öleceklerdir.

Amidst the chaos of the cities, a part of you always yearns for the silence of the woods.

It’s funny. Looking back, none of it seems to matter now, those moments of yearning, craving to belong with people I thought mattered. No more fragments of glass, pieces of a broken mirror you can’t put back together and wouldn’t want to even if you could.

Entahlah, mana yang lebih sulit, Melupakan Orangnya atau kenangannya.mungkin keduanya memang susah untuk dilupakan,karena saling berhubungan.

We live in deeds not years In thoughts not breaths In feelings not figures on a dial. We should count time by heart throbs. He most lives who thinks most, feels noblest, acts the best.

Sometimes. it is not the person that you miss, but the memories that you made.

When you walk into your memories, you are opening a door to the past; the road within has many branches, and the route is different every time.

…we should be remembered for the things we do. The things we do are the most important things of all. They are more important than what we say or what we look like. The things we do outlast our mortality. The things we do are like monuments that people build to honour heroes after they’ve...

Your life isn’t behind you; your memories are behind you. Your life is ALWAYS ahead of you. Today is a new day – seize it!

She ordered a martini and encouraged me to, but said she couldn’t drink it with her medication. She just liked seeing it in front of her, like the old days, all set to do its little magic.

The past is our ultimate privacy; we pile it up, year by year, decade by decade, it stows itself away, with its perverse random recall system.

I wait and wait to learn how could you love more?

What matters is at the end of life, when you’re about to pass into oblivion, that you’ve at least scratched ‘Kilroy was here,’ on the last wall of the universe.

She had not remembered then what she remembers now, a memory like something buried in river silt that finally works free and rises to the surface…

I took on a year of reading books for a reason. Because words are witness to life: they record what has happened, and they make it all real. Words create the stories that become history and become unforgettable. Even fiction portrays truth: good fiction is truth.

Fond memories are some of the richest possessions you can have. They never wear away no matter how often you reuse them !

When they look at a beautiful view, most people see their memories, not the view!

Coming to terms with incest is not easy. Learning to be a survivor, not a victim, gives new meaning to life

…the answer is not in the damn blank page – it’s in the days or years before and you have to dredge it up – exhume the past again …

Many deeply hidden memories have come flooding back. The important message here though is that it is possible to heal and survive. Everyone has survived their own kind of emotional or mental trauma. We all have our inner fears and misreplaced feelings of guilt.

…spiritual or emotional pain doesn’t become a memory so much as a bruise …

…everyone wants to be excited by something magical and wondrous – to be reminded of how they once saw the world …