I carry all of my childhood memories in my mind. But maybe that’s not the best place for them. Well, you’ve got some extra space in your closet. Do you think I could store them...

There comes a moment in life when one must acknowledge that you just can’t keep looking back into your past for reasons to keep someone in your present and future. Regardless of how much looking...

Thoughts turn to other’s just a little more this time of year. Days grow shorter and memories grow longer. Families and friends gather in celebration or hope. Giving is a reflection of our love and...

She turned around to look at me with her enchanting gaze that further pierced my heart; a look I would never forget and I would retain till perpetuity and think of it always whenever she...

To read, even in the half-dark, is also to call the lost forward.

Walls get made, walls crumble, buildings get built, buildings collapse, memories get made, memories last.

Though no longer living in silence, I continued to carry pain and memories.

What i like about photographs is that they capture a moment that’s gone forever, impossible to reproduce.

No skill is more crucial to the future of a child than literacy.

The feelings resembled memories; but memories of what? Apparently one can remember things that have never happened.

It is stronge how smells can bring back vivid memories.

Those are exactly the kind of memories I try to avoid, but they’re like abestos: invisible and deadly. You need special gear to get rid of them.

We humans are different – our brains are built not to fix memories in stone but rather to transform them, our recollections in their retelling.

Where would we be in this soulless universe if there weren’t a few people who hold on to memories, their hearts yearning for long-lost feelings?

It’s sad when the people you love most become a bitter memory.

I try not to remember them but very often memories force themselves on my consciousness; they are like stubborn relatives who invite themselves over even when you’ve made it clear that they are unwelcome.

RedheadAll over the houseStrands of copper hairLike filaments from a cobwebCollect.If you and IWere ever to part— For months, perhaps years,I’d be combing out,Brushing or picking upStrands of significance,Traces of youIn my life

The past, rich with it’s pains and joys, shuffles before me, relieving the weary dullness of endless days. I rejoice; I agonize.

There’s no consciousness without senses and memories.

I’ve apparently been the victim of growing up, which apparently happens to all of us at one point or another. It’s been going on for quite some time now, without me knowing it. I’ve found...

It’ll be something to come to refresh the memories of someone who was lost,

Your brain activates a magnificent system to store memories as reference points for you to learn from… not to create a past for you to be stuck in.

I couldn’t believe I let him see me like this, unable to fend for myself. I fumed in disgust at my vulnerability. I didn’t want Evan to think I needed protecting. I pulled back my...

Stephen kissed me in the spring,Robin in the fall,But Colin only looked at meAnd never kissed at all.Stephen’s kiss was lost in jest,Robin’s lost in play,But the kiss in Colin’s eyesHaunts me night and day.

Like all of my important memories, it has a potency that has influenced the pocket of time that holds it, so I can remember that particular Saturday afternoon, even though in many ways it was...

My mother gave it to me mother, who passed it to me. Now is the right time to give it to you. Not just because you’re leaving and will need something that always connects you...

I know I could have saved your ashes to put into the ocean, but I wanted you to have the journey, all the way with the currents, to the open sea. And I know that...

It really is the end of an era. John’s always saying, ‘Let’s go out and make some memories.’ That’s what we try to do. We know it’s over. Let’s just try to make one more...

Consult your memory to know what matters most in your life.

There were some memories, though, that never faded.

It is as if people refused to leave their dead alone, forced them back into the light, made them keep their composure even in death.

No trees, sky or ground. No other buildings or fields. No winding path, no brambles, no outhouse or pond or flowers, no sunshine or children playing. Just blackness.

Pocas cosas engañan más que los recuerdos.

Bhulaney ke liay bhi tujhy yaad tu kerna hoga,Magar her yaad se hain wabasta teri hazaar baatain,Teri in baaton ka kahin tu hisaab hoga,Faqat guzri hain iss fikr mein meri hazaar raatain.

[M]ost people go through life a wee bit disappointed in themselves. I think we all keep a memory of a moment when we missed someone or something, when we could have gone down another path,...

They thought more before nine a.m. than most people thought all month. I remember once declining cherry pie at dinner, and Rand cocked his head and said, ‘Ahh! Iconoclast. Disdains the easy, symbolic patriotism.’ And...

We tend to think of memories as monuments we once forged and may find intact beneath the weedy growth of years. But, in a real sense, memories are tied to and describe the present. Formed...

They talked in the shorthand of old friends and shared memories.

Nostalgia is the only friend that stays with you forever.

You know how sometimes you remember a place you once loved, a movie you’ve enjoyed, only to be disappointed when you return to that place or see that movie for a second time? Well, it...

I am sick of old ghosts and I just want to feel safe again without the haunts of old vulnerabilities.

Thinking back to my time with Tad on this lake, I remember it like a painting, a snapshot in my mind. But really, all memories are like paintings: They can be incredibly vivid and lifelike....

Memories leave a light in the eyes, just as plain as scars.

I want to believe that memories, even sad and painful ones, should not be forgotten forever.

My memory is coming back. It is curious how it comes. Each day, a rush of pieces, loosely connected, unimportant bits, snake through me. They click, click, click into my brain, like links being snapped...

If we were scars, our memories would be the stitches holding us together. You couldn’t cut them apart, and if you did, it would tear you in two.””But my memories hurt,” she said. “I want...

Everyone is born and they die, but it’s the memories they leave behind that define them and let them live on than others.

A boy from Brooklyn used to cruise on summer nights.As soon as he’d hit sixty he’d hold his hand out the window,cupping it around the wind. He’d been assuredthis is exactly how a woman’s breast...

Ist nicht eigentliches Ziel von Roman und Museum, unsere Erinnerungen so aufrichtig wie möglich zu erzählen und dadurch unser Glück in das Glück anderer zu verwandeln?

The memory of the pain did not destroy the reality of the pleasure; grief did not obliterate joy.