Once-upon-a-time we buried the memories we didn’t want.

Memories are the only thing tie us to the past

I like the memories because they remind meI haven’t always beenthis girl,constantly mad or scaredor confused.

A good fragrance is really a powerful cocktail of memories and emotion.

Without memories,there can be no good or evil. It will exist only indifference!

Memories are like mulligatawny soup in a cheap restaurant. It is best not to stir them.

The happening and telling are very different things. This doesn’t mean that the story isn’t true,only that I honestly don’t know anymore if I really remember it or only remember how to tell it. Language...

The soul is healed by being with children.” …

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

Images last for ever, our minds don’t – capture what you can before the time runs out.

Time laughs in the distance as I cling to the belief memories of you will fade.

I believe that life is all about perception and timing. That good things come to those who act and that life’s about more than collecting a paycheck. I believe that the only person you’re destined...

Losing myself interests me. The fertile topsoil interests me, sprawling beneath a light dusting of snow, and the snow that crams the trunks and branches of the pines and elms and redwoods, having frozen up...

for those memories are nowjust like these little kittensI hold in my handsthose can be kissedand treasuredbut not held too tightly.

All memories fade away in the end. Then, only dreams are left. And because they are all we have, we confide our life’s worries to them.

The smells of Christmas are the smells of childhood

and I’m thinking as our bodies meet that I’ll remember this forever, and i just hope it’s for all the right reasons.

My chest tightens: seeing him so upset breaks my own heart. ‘Don’t you ever wish you could make that bit go away?” I say, feeling angry at the past. ‘That you could erase those painful...

Tell the story, gather the events, repeat them. Pattern is a matter of upkeep. Otherwise the weave relaxes back to threads picked up by birds to make their nests. Repeat, or the story will fall...

I know in my life there have been breaches, but I also know that I am very good at blocking out the memories that serve me no purpose.

Remember that you own what happened to you. If your childhood was less than ideal, you may have been raised thinking that if you told the truth about what really went on in your family,...

People have told me, ‘My dad passed on, but I have great memories of watching your shows with him.’ It doesn’t get any better than that.

Memories shrink. Like a soap bar used over and over, they become deformed, weaker scented, too slight and slippery to hold.

I slipped on a turtleneck, laughing when my head became stuck in the turtle part. If they weren’t called turtlenecks, I wouldn’t have worn them.

You don’t deserve my image in your head. You don’t deserve my memories in your chest.

It could be yesterdaywhen I was less in loveI thinkFor I didn’t see you in the mirrorbehind mewhile getting dressed.The way your hands couldn’t stay awayand our bodies always found their ways back to each...

I have a lot of memories of Clemens, … I have a lot of souvenirs and memorabilia related to Clemens.

The little house is not too smallTo shelter friends who come to call.Though low the roof and small its spaceIt holds the Lord’s abounding grace,And every simple room may beEndowed with happy memory.The little house,...

Night thoughts have a different color than day thoughts, a different slant, more than anything else they know all the secret paths and chinks in the armor they can take advantage of to force their...

She clung to the memories of her youth as if they were the only way she could save a piece of her soul from whatever it was she was about to face.

There are some things we can never assign to oblivion, memories we can never rub away. They remain with us forever, like a touchstone.

There were no toys under the bed–that wasn’t why he liked it. Why he liked it was that there wasn’t anything under the bed–no chickens, no Joey, no Eloise, no sheep, no “no”s. He could...

Unhappiness is caused when we cannot let go of our memories.

This season has been great. We’ve really bonded and made memories, and that means a lot.

The first real memory I have, is one of the first times I was old enough to remember being at your house. We must have been about three, maybe four. I came and sat down...

Sometimes, remembering hurts too much.

[Aunt] Patricia smiled, and we walked in silence for a while. But it wasn’t a poisonous silence. It was the sort of silence shared by two people who’re comfortable enough not to force a conversation...

If my generation is remembered for anything, it will be as the last one that remembers the world before the Internet.

You know, sometimes it’s nice to just have someone to blame, even if it has to be yourself, even if it doesn’t make sense.

For a long time, she sat and saw.She had seen her brother die with one eye open, on still in a dream. She had said goodbye to her mother and imagined her lonely wait for...

…every time I look at you autumn leaves come in between – does it matter they’re the color of your hair – or they still fall in my memory?…

Bouncing on beds, I remember from childhood, is a great depression reliever.

She said that one day they would be very old, that the world would be a different place, but it would always be their world, and that the time apart now would be a nightmare...

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

Memories are’t like words; they’re soft and gooey. Covered with a sticky slime, like a penis after sex, or your vagina when you menstruate, and shaped like tadpoles or tiny watersnakes

Our memories have voices, too. Often sad ones that clamor like raised arms in the dark.

I am suspended in the moment. Flickering images faded with age, frozen thoughts hovering precariously in dead space, a whirlwind of memories that slice through my soul.

The only real treasure is in your head. Memories are better than diamonds and nobody can steal them from you

Ghosts are not what I remember of my childhood; but somehow they infuse memories of myself as a child, the little girl in a storybook, with ghosts hovering around her.

People have a tendency of filtering their memories – exaggerate the positives and downplay their weaknesses and faults. Self-preservation will be another obstacle you will have to surmount when it comes to suppressed memories.