“Humans, not places, make memories.”
“Memory is the diary we all carry about with us.”
“Some memories stay, even if the time moves on”
“Most uncomfortable situations brings at times most precious memories....”
“Memories warm you up from the inside. But they also tear you apart.”
“The town was paper, but the memories were not.”
“I don t want to repeat my innocence. I want the pleasure of losing it again.”
“No matter how much suffering you went through, you never wanted to let go of those memories.”
“The past beats inside me like a second heart.”
“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 the fastest way you can. Never turn back and never believe that an hour you remember is a better hour because it is dead. Passed years seem safe ones, vanquished ones, while the future lives in a cloud, formidable from a distance.”
“Sometimes things become possible if we want them bad enough.”
“He was still too young to know that the heart s memory eliminates the bad and magnifies the good, and that thanks to this artifice we manage to endure the burden of the past.”
“Stephen kissed me in the spring, Robin in the fall, But Colin only looked at me And never kissed at all. Stephen’s kiss was lost in jest, Robin’s lost in play, But the kiss in Colin’s eyes Haunts me night and day.”
“There are memories that time does not erase... Forever does not make loss forgettable, only bearable.”
“Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean, Tears from the depths of some devine despair Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes, In looking on the happy autumn fields, And thinking of the days that are no more.”
“Nothing is ever really lost to us as long as we remember it.”
“Time Does Not Bring Relief Time does not bring relief; you all have lied Who told me time would ease me of my pain! I miss him in the weeping of the rain; I want him at the shrinking of the tide; The old snows melt from every mountain-side, And last year’s leaves are smoke in every lane; But last year’s bitter loving must remain Heaped on my heart, and my old thoughts abide. There are a hundred places where I fear To go,—so with his memory they brim. And entering with relief some quiet place Where never fell his foot or shone his face I say, “There is no memory of him here!” And so stand stricken, so remembering him.”