Images flicker, each one bringing its own sorrow or its own smile. Sometimes both. At the very worst, an impenetrable and sightless black and at best, a happiness so bright that it hurts the eyes...

I take a picture, but it’s not about who is in the picture or the background of it. It’s about the memories and meanings it holds.

These are the quicksilver moments of my childhood I cannot remember entirely. Irresistible and emblematic, I can recall them only in fragments and shivers of the heart.

In the West we cling to the past like limpets. In Haiti the present is the axis of all life. As in Africa, past and future are but distant measures of the present, and memories...

When those who name dead people have gone, there just remains the calmness of foreign cemeteries, in which nothing appears familiar and nothing frightens you.

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...

Quien de verdad quiera conservar en la memoria lo sucedido, no debe entregarse a los recuerdos. El recuerdo humano es un proceso demasiado agradable como para retener el pasado; es lo contrario de lo que...

Don’t get me wrong, it’s a good thing to be remembered. But everyday their memories get fewer, less intense. Certain aspects of the memory will become dishevelled, twisted into a form unrecognisable. Until finally the...

I am a complete sentimentalist when it comes to clothes. I have so many memories attached to them that I can’t throw anything out.

Food shouldn’t be that shade of green, lass.” – Faolán MacIntyre

She had never had a daydream that dreamed itself, like nightmares. That crawled out of her brain like a creature of the dark. A daymare.

Not very long ago I was driving with my husband on the back roads of Grey County, which is to the north and east of Huron County. We passed a country store standing empty at...

Sometimes it’s more painful to draw to mind the good times

I have several memories of playing outside in the garage against them, basically them beating me down until I cried, but it worked out. It all paid off.

Perhaps memory is a thing that everyone involved has to work at, like stitching up a big quilt out of everything that ever happened to you.

Mi sa che è questo il mio limite: mi mancano le conclusioni, nel senso che ho l’impressione che niente finisca mai veramente. Io vorrei, vorrei davvero che i dispiaceri scaduti, le persone sbagliate, le risposte...

When you touch a man’s heart, he will remember it forever.

Nay! Alas for us all! And for all that walk in the world in these after-days. For such is the way of it: to find and lose, as it seems to those whose boat is...

I don’t think I remember my first memory

I couldn’t tell what colour her eyes were. They were wet and dark and shining, like pools of deep, still water. For a second I thought I could see pictures in them, like I was...

Toy is talking and this is why I love her. She can go on about herself ceaselessly and like the scratching of a branch against the window at night, the steady insistence of it is...

She has never tried to find out what happened to her family — her mother or her relatives in Ireland. But over and over, Molly begins to understand as she listens to the tapes, Vivian...

No matter how much time passes, no matter what takes place in the interim, there are some things we can never assign to oblivion, memories we can never rub away.

Sometimes I dream that I’m writing a memoir. A memoir would just be the thing to keep me in the hearts and memories of my adoring public.

Sometimes it all becomes too much. Your body and mind will just give way. Part of you may want to blissfully fade into nothing, but you never do. After a while all the memories and...

You are alone”Rose colored memories drown,taking their last breath.

The death of a parent, he wrote, ‘despite our preparation, indeed, despite our age, dislodges things deep in us, sets off reactions that surprise us and that may cut free memories and feelings that we...

Better to leave with good memories than have the last ones be the embarrassing, smoking ruin of what once had been a fantastic friendship.

Honor LostAmbulant sunshine piercedthe soot covered glass ~the feeble man wandered byin this ritual morning pass …

I have a lot of great memories playing in Moscow,

The past is only the present become invisible and mute; its memoried glances and its murmurs are infinitely precious.

There are edges around the black and every now and then a flash of color streaks out of the gray. But I can never really grasp any of the slivers of memories that emerge.

How strange it is, sometimes, which conversations or events stays with us while so much else melts as fast as April snow.

This was me before I knew about anything hard, when my whole life was packed lunches and art projects and spelling quizzes.

Depression is a red herring,” said Nariman. “I think a lot about the past, it’s true. But at my age, the past is more present than the here and now. and there is not much...

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

There are things without explanation, moments when life will become arranged in such odd ways that you imagine a whole vocabulary of meaning inside them. The breakfast smell struck me like that.

Times like this were special. Memory builders. When something extraordinary happened to a person the kind of things remembered forever after it didn’t have to be a life-changing event like a graduation or marriage or...

we always knewthat good times camewith termination contractseven if we weren’t quite readyto sign it.

Pictures … flashed on her in sudden color, too much color, shocking color, the color that leaps out of black when lightning strikes at night.

I’m so careless that now i don’t even care if i cared for you.

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.

If you don’t do anything stupid when you’re young, you won’t remember something funny when you’re old.

It is now recognised that dissociation is a way of forgetting, for a time. The mind siphons off the bad memories into a separate part, and reclaiming those hidden-away memories us a complex process. So,...

And the air–I don’t know how to describe it exactly–it had that strange cool spring feeling in it, that feeling as if you remember something wonderful but you’re not quite sure what it is.

Time made apologies and absolution unnecessary. Time didn’t really heal, it just made bad memories distant so that the brain couldn’t recapture the lost pain

…I stir in bed and the memories rise out of me like a buzz of flies from a carcass. I crave to be rid of them…

The city is sore with movement, but still it oscillates. Busy people churn through grey-toned streets, their briefcases held close, rustling against trouser legs. The collective machine is tired, but each worker drives on. Gleaming...

You will find, as you get older, that the key to being happy is being able to turn those bad memories into treasured ones. I used to cringe at the thought of you being angry...

Nothing brings to life again a forgotten memory like a fragrance.