It is not our memories but the person we have become because of those experiences that we should treasure. This is the lesson these keepsakes teach us when we sort them. The space in which...

The saddest thing that can happen to a person is to find out their memories are lies.

I cannot remember you when the rain flows down -I cannot remember youandmy heart begins to drown …

Sono ricordi da trattare con delicatezza per non sporcarli o gualcirli, come oggetti fragili che rischiano di rompersi se li maneggi troppo a lungo

É possível avançar por ruas durante toda a vida, perder as forças nas pernas, cair de joelhos e morrer, transformar-se lentamente, com a chuva, com os anos, no empedrado da calçada, diluir-se entre as pedras,...

Memories were waiting at the edges of things, beckoning to me.

It’s the best time of the year, and these three days can create memories that will last a lifetime. I told them to embrace it and not get nervous about it.

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...

Nikmati nyanyian pagi sendu ini. Mari kembali ke masa yang hanya bisa kita kenang itu dengan menumpang rindu.

Yet whenever I think of light, I’m always reminded of her.

When you’re young your reality is accepted by most. When you’re older, your reality changes and that seems to upset most people.

What are we, if not an accumulation of our memories?

most of the timesit’s the hardest to saywhat I love moreyouor your memory.

That same yearbook said I’d be in prison with a wife named Roberta.”~Conversation between Riley and Stella, “Sugar and Spies: Spy Sisters Book 1

What you keep alive is what you truly care about, no matter how many times you die in the process.

Liars need to have good memories.

…a noisy parade of memories that frustrate her because of the way they play themselves out. These memories-it feels like she’s back there in the moment, like she has the moment to do over and...

there’s a blessing ;even when you lose That ; There’s always stay inside Your Heart, Memories That You’ll never Been Forgotten Until the Rest Of Your Life ; mine?; There’s inside My Heaven “Miquel Andre”...

All great roads are paved with uncomfortable memories.

I have learned that if you must leave a place that you have lived in and loved and where all your yesteryears are buried deep, leave it any way except a slow way, leave it...

Wounds heal. Scars fade. Awful memories can be overwritten with better ones if given the chance. The little imperfections of our psyches become overshadowed by the people whose love we cherish because they cherish us...

There is no memory of him here!” And so stand stricken, so remembering him.

Those static images have the uncanny ability to jar the memory and bring places and people back to life. They bridge the present with the past and validate as real what the passage of time...

For many years there have been rumours of mind control experiments. in the United States. In the early 1970s, the first of the declassified information was obtained by author John Marks for his pioneering work,...

He thought each memory recalled must do some violence to its origins. As in a party game. Say the words and pass it on. So be sparing. What you alter in the remembering has yet...

You can never go back to a specific moment. That’s why it’s important to live in the present and not the past. Don’t let foolish memories get in the way of the makings of new...

The future reshapes the memory of the past in the way it recalibrates significance: some episodes are advanced, others lose purchase.

The Memory Of You Is Like A Drug To Me

I’d had much practice turning my mind away from certain memories of my childhood. I could quickly dial her remembered voice from a whisper to a silence.

wounds make you awake in the memories but tears makes tough and dry in real life.

Like memories in cold decay, Transmissions echoing away, Far from the world of you and I Where oceans bleed into the sky..

She had realized there are only fragments, that ‘memories’ always consist of fragments the mind puts together into a pattern, adapts a picture staked out early without the need for a conenction with anything that...

And yet, even as she spoke, she knew that she did not wish to come back. not to stay, not to live. She loved the little yellow cottage more than she loved any place on...

Memories aren’t supposed to be hidden anyway.

Memories are like dreams. You remember how you got to the front of the classroom with no clothes on.

When you choose your life, ignore people, when you make it in life, remember some friends, when you sing a song, praise your source, when predicaments arises, stand your ground.

The worst part of holding the memories is not the pain. It’s the loneliness of it. Memories need to be shared.

And I can promise you something, because it was a thing I saw many years later – a vision in the book thief herself – that as she knelt next to Hans Hubermann, she watched...

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

During the day, memories could be held at bay, but at night, dreams became the devil’s own accomplices.

As I was standing in my kitchen cooking yesterday, a quiet task that causes my mind to begin reminiscing (similar to washing dishes, cleaning the bathrooms and mowing), I reached for the kitchen scissors and...

[Think] of an experience from your childhood. Something you remember clearly, something you can see, feel, maybe even smell, as if you were really there. After all you really were there at the time, weren’t...

were the last words that I wrote for you enough to tell youthat in my death the light that shone through my painful darknesswas a blinding vision of your eternal smile?cold scalpel’s steel whispers tear...

My heart’s with you, Bill, no matter how it turns out. My heart is with all of them, and I think that, even if we forget each other, we’ll remember in our dreams.

To reminisce with my old friends, a chance to share some memories, and play our songs again.

I thought of you and how you love this beauty,And walking up the long beach all aloneI heard the waves breaking in measured thunderAs you and I once heard their monotone.Around me were the echoing...

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

We thought everything would be forgotten, but I still remember yourclaws running down my back.I wonder if you still think about us,the way I do.How our legs would crash into each other in the middle...

Her body was a prison, her mind was a prison. Her memories were a prison. The people she loved. She couldn’t get away from the hurt of them. She could leave Eric, walk out of...

it felt increasingly, as I became more whole, that I had made it all up, and that I was a phoney. I had to come to some place of acceptance. If I made it all...