c2p-cmd/Good-Quotes-Authors huggingface dataset:
At the end of the evening, Paxton and Willa walked Agatha out to the nurse's car, after Agatha had given them a blind tour of the Madam, pointing out by feel and memory everything she remembered about the house. She and Georgie sliding down the banister and their skirts flying up. Playing dolls in Georgie's room. Having pineapple upside-down cake the Jacksons' cook would make in a cast-iron frying pan, so that the brown sugar on top turned crispy. A slide-away secret compartment in the bookcase where they used to leave notes for each other.
— Sarah Addison Allen, The Peach Keeper
I had forgotten, I suppose, that there were bright memories in amongst the dark.
— Kate Morton, The House at Riverton
Do you think it’s funny that both of our favorite memories are about the people we like the least now?” I ask.“Maybe that’s why we dislike them,” she says. “The distance between who they were and who they are is so wide, we have no hope of getting them back.
— Nicola Yoon, The Sun Is Also a Star
Childhood memories surge back more vividly midway through life – like some palimpsest whose original text suddenly reappears after the manuscript has been chemically treated.
— Gérard de Nerval, Selected Writings
As if I hadn't spent a lifetime pretending to forget.
— Kate Morton, The House at Riverton
When Paxton was a teenager, her friends had even envied her relationship with her mother. Everyone knew that neither Paxton nor Sophia scheduled anything on Sunday afternoons, because that was popcorn-and-pedicures time, when mother and daughter sat in the family room and watched sappy movies and tried out beauty products. And Paxton could remember her mother carrying dresses she'd ordered into her bedroom, almost invisible behind tiers of taffeta, as they'd planned for formal dances. She'd loved helping Paxton pick out what to wear. And her mother had exquisite taste. Paxton could still remember dresses her mother wore more than twenty-five years ago. Imprinted in her memory were shiny blue ones, sparkly white ones, wispy rose-colored ones.
— Sarah Addison Allen, The Peach Keeper
I was haunting you, for so long, that I forgot that I became a ghost too.
— Melissa  Jennings, Afterlife
As I enlarged my vision to see the bigger picture of my dad’s full life, I was better able to let go of being stuck in memories of its end.
— Lisa J. Shultz, A Chance to Say Goodbye: Reflections on Losing a Parent
Oh well, memories, said I. Yes, even remembering in itself is sad, yet how much more its object! Don't let yourself in for things like that, it's not for you and not for me. It only weakens one's present position without strengthening the former one - nothing is more obvious - quite apart from the fact that the former one doesn't need strengthening.
— Franz Kafka, The Complete Stories
Life is full of days and each day comes with its own happenstances; good and unbearable ones! Some days are remembered, for though such days come and go, they leave their memorable footprints on our minds; footprints of difficulties, footprints of sweetness and joy, footprints of regrets, and footprints worth pondering over and over! Until something happens to you in the day, you shall least remember that moment of time and day in your lifetime!
— Ernest Agyemang Yeboah
Moments don’t last forever, but their memories do.
— Frank Sonnenberg, BookSmart: Hundreds of real-world lessons for success and happiness
Now, obviously, all old people seem cool whenever we see black-and-white images of their younger selves. It's human nature to inject every old picture with positive abstractions. We can't help ourselves. We all do it. We want those things to be true, because we all hope future generations will have the same thoughts when they come across forgotten photographs of us.
— Chuck Klosterman, The Visible Man
I like these experts because they seem decent, and because I feel I know a true sentence when I hear one now. They do not know what my mother remembered. I don't know what my mother remembered either.
— Elizabeth Strout, My Name Is Lucy Barton
They live in human memory, man. That's what keeps them alive.
— Rick Riordan, The Hidden Oracle
Nostalgia is a lane of calm comfort, charming even a complacent heart!
— Balroop Singh
A person experiences time by traveling through the environment consisting of time and space, and encounters a variety of sense impressions. Time is the combined experience and cataloguing what is taking place now, a recollecting what took place before now, and the anticipation or expectation of a person registering future physical and mental sensations. Time is a happening that will arrive from the future and it will last for about as long as it takes to a person to inhale and exhale one deep bodily breath. In each recognizable segment of time, a person experiences in a thematic breathing cycle a tangible sense perception of either seeing, hearing, smelling, tasting, touching, or some combination thereof. Then that distinct morsel of life detected by the physical senses passes from the slipstream of now and lodges into the silted fold of bygone memories.
— Kilroy J. Oldster, Dead Toad Scrolls
I cannot read my own words,Lest I shed a tear,For all the aching memories,That I hold so very dear.
— Anthony T. Hincks
I need to remember what they look like. I try to hold them still behind my eyes, their faces, like pictures in an album. But they won't stay still for me, they move, there's a smile and it's gone, their features curl and bend as if the paper's burning, blackness eats them. A glimpse, a pale shimmer on the air; a glow, aurora, dance of electrons, then a face again, faces. But they fade, though I stretch out my arms towards them, they slip away from me, ghosts at daybreak. Back to wherever they are. Stay with me, I want to say. But they won't.
— Margaret Atwood, The Handmaid's Tale
It’s our memories that teach us who we are.
— Glenn Haybittle, The Memory Tree
And so the picture that I showed her that Sunday, a picture I'd seen countless times since I was a boy, brought home to me for the first time the strangeness of my relationship to the people I was interviewing, people who were rich in memories but poor in keepsakes, whereas I was so rich in the keepsakes but had no memories to go with them.
— Daniel Mendelsohn, The Lost: A Search for Six of Six Million
He was asking for memories, too young himself to know that memories were only memories of memories.
— Alan Hollinghurst, The Stranger's Child
The day might come when I had nothing but memories, and the choice of whether to indulge my romantic side and wallow in them, or my cynical side and reflect on the reliability.
— Graeme Simsion, The Best of Adam Sharp
Her memories got dizzy and fell out of her head.
— Suzka, Wonders in Dementialand
Memories remain a part of one's life, whether that arise, and pass in a bitter or a sweet way.
— Ehsan Sehgal
The memory of Mullah Mustafa Barzani has become a crucial part of the idea of what it means to be Kurdish today.
— Davan Yahya Khalil
Never leave home without your memories.
— Glenn Haybittle, The Memory Tree
A photograph is a kind of time machine.
— Nicola Yoon, Everything, Everything
Our memories are what make us who we are. Some are real. Some are made up. But they are the stories that tell us who we are. Without them we are nobody.
— Clare Furniss, How Not To Disappear
There are times now, and my life has changed so completely, that I think back on the early years and I find myself thinking: It was not that bad. Perhaps it was not. But there are times, too—unexpected—when walking down a sunny sidewalk, or watching the top of a tree bend in the wind, or seeing a November sky close down over the East River, I am suddenly filled with the knowledge of darkness so deep that a sound might escape from my mouth, and I will step into the nearest clothing store and talk with a stranger about the shape of sweaters newly arrived. This must be the way most of us maneuver through the world, half knowing, half not, visited by memories that can’t possibly be true. But when I see others walking with confidence down the sidewalk, as though they are free completely from terror, I realize I don’t know how others are. So much of life seems speculation.
— Elizabeth Strout, My Name Is Lucy Barton
Maybe this was now normal for Olivier. Maybe every now and then he simply wept. Not in pain or sadness. The tears were just overwhelming memories, rendered into water, seeping out.
— Louise Penny, The Long Way Home
For me, there is a strange beauty in remembering.
— Kia Amazona, The Way It Was Before
We had the experience but missed the meaning,an approach to the meaning restores the experience
— T. S. Elliot
Our sense of self, formulated in large part by the untold number of cross-related connections that we make with our physical, social, and family environments, is reliant upon fitting into our social fabric. The educational environment, family relationships, peer groups, books, television, films, music, along with an assortment of other cultural events shape our emergent persona. Our successes and failures interacting in the world leave their collective imprint upon the wet clay of our forming brains. We are sentimental creatures who cling to past memories. We are inquisitive critters who venture forth from our protective dens to explore new territory. We are perceptive organisms equipped with five basic senses. We are sentient beings who can consciously organize our sense impressions into guiding ideas and useful principles. Our survival responses form a central cord of our emotions. We are receptive, compassionate beings that respond with both body and mind to global stimuli.
— Kilroy J. Oldster, Dead Toad Scrolls
In old age, past haunts the present; memories replace the real life!
— Mehmet Murat ildan
When you look back, most days in life seem ordinary, but there are some that change your life forever and remain etched in your memory.
— Toffee, Finding Juliet
When the person whom you always loved never loves you back, then you love the person who loves you, thinking it would be easy. But pretending love to someone you don't love is as difficult as actually loving someone who never loved you back.
— Ratish Edwards
Children, our lives have been gongs striking; clamour and boasting; cries of despair; blows on the nape of the neck in gardens.
— Virginia Woolf, The Waves
Kids don’t have much accumulated and deep memories and that’s why they happily live in the present time!
— Mehmet Murat ildan
In the privacy of her century-worn house she donned an old burka to stay warm. Years earlier, the ragged garment had been discarded by her eldest sister, Sarah. Zoe secretly retrieved it so she could wrap herself in its fond memories. Those memories, good and bad, quickened her weary heart. Only one person could help when she got nerved-up.
— Michael Benzehabe
How many of us take the time to relive half a lifetime’s worth of happy memories, cringeworthy failures, and unforgettable adventures together? How many of us get a chance to sit down and talk about the rough times we overcame in the past or to laugh about the stupid mistakes we made when we were young?
— Joanna Gaines, The Magnolia Story
Have you ever sat on a window seat, in the train of your memories while it's raining heavily? Rain has this ridiculous power of waking up all the angels and demons inside us at once, doesn't it? All of a sudden there is a war inside us, between both the sides. We can do nothing but clench our fists and watch our train derail and take a path we have never come across before. All we know at that point of time is that we are going to crash somewhere. Either our demons win or the angels, we are going to get wounded somewhere.
— Akshay Vasu
Memories drifting and piling up quietly, like letters on the doormat of an empty house.
— Lucy Wood, Weathering
Suddenly, no one, including me, was in Guescheste anymore; they weren't in Miami or Cuba; they weren't in the present, or the future, but floating somewhre in the formless, timeless space of memory.
— Richard Blanco, The Prince of Los Cocuyos: A Miami Childhood
The train brings out some of the best and the worst memories of my life. I like to watch the train. It makes me sad, but gives hope as well. It connects me to my family, which I abandoned many years ago. I fled away from my family and home by a train only.
— Ravi Ranjan Goswami, LOVE & LUST
He misses her. He wonders if she knows it, and can't decide which would be worse.
— Belleutiful
Material possessions do not last, but memories last forever.
— Margo Vader, Check Mate: For Graduates and Young Adults
What is it that you contain? The dead, time, light patterns of millenia opening in your gut. What is salted up in the memory of you? Memory past and memory future.
— Jeanette Winterson, Gut Symmetries
I have been too young to know, and I have been too old to care. It’s in that oh so narrow slice between that memories are made.
— Mark  Lawrence, Red Sister
All those practice fights when it was just us, two children pretending to be soldiers. Or two soldiers pretending to be children.
— Sara Raasch, Snow Like Ashes
It disturbs me that he can remember some of these things about himself, but not others; that the things he's lost or misplaced exist now only for me. If he's forgotten so much, what have I forgotten?
— Margaret Atwood, Cat's Eye
Whose memories are these? Who speaks to her of this gentle time that she is too young to have known herself? There was hardship then, certainly, but not hearts chained and heavy with fear. Who is it that laughs with aged lightheartedness and suggests that this is still a place of promise?
— Margaret Cezair-Thompson, The True History of Paradise
Removing memories is difficult.... changing is easy...- Dexter
— Deyth Banger
Experiences and memories make us who we are, not just our genes.
— Merlyn Gabriel Miller, Sex, Death, Drugs & Madness
I buried my face against his neck, breathing him in - the smell of machine oil, summertime, a thousand memories
— L.A. Weatherly, Broken Sky
Is that the secret meaning of the word story, do you think: a storing place of memories?
— J.M. Coetzee, Foe
Memories are not in places, Papa. Memories are in your mind. They're here, too.
— Mitch Albom, The Magic Strings of Frankie Presto
As I glanced around my room, sliding my dinosaur back and forth on its chain, I though that maybe that was the point--that instead of happy endings, you get beginnings. Hundreds of little beginnings happening every moment, each of them layering into histories deep and tangled and new, histories you count on to remain, no matter what changes the world throws at you.
— Meg Leder, The Museum of Heartbreak
Keep the good memories and throw out the bad ones
— Norhafsah Hamid, Back to Basics
the opportunity of sharing the blessings of family and friends keeps reminding us of the wealth of emotions, but, later in life yearning to relive those times, but only to offer the memories, in exchange to what one had or remember when one is reminded.
— levi paul taylor
You're forgiven."I don't deserve her."But not forgotten," I whisper. She'll never forget what I did. It's not humanly possible. Sometimes I want the impossible. Her expression doesn't change. "My head is undiscriminating with the memories it keeps, but my heart has already forgotten.
— Jewel E. Ann, Scarlet Stone
But I am not allowed to forgetThe taste of the tears of yesterday.
— Anna Akhmatova, The Complete Poems of Anna Akhmatova
MIND is not a dustbin to keep anger, hatred and jealousy. But it is the treasure box to keep, love happiness and sweet memories.
— Swami Vivekananda
Take me back into the time when I lost track of time!
— Jasleen Kaur Gumber
Years don't mean anything, only what happens in them.
— Nicolas Barreau, The Ingredients of Love
Your most precious memories will focus on those you loved, those who loved you, and what you did together in the service of the Lord.
— James C. Dobson, Life on the Edge: The Next Generation's Guide to a Meaningful Future
There is redemption in sadness. It tells me that for nearly five months in 2003, I lived life with the open, raw, refreshing outlook of the young. The payoff, though difficult to quantify, is much greater than I expected. I have no regrets about having gone -- it was the right thing to do. I think about it every day. Sometimes I can hardly believe it happened. I just quit -- and I was on a monumental trip. I didn't suffer financial ruin, my wife didn't leave me, the world didn't stop spinning. I do think of how regrettable it would have been had I ignored the pull that I felt to hike the trail. A wealth of memories could have been lost before they had even occurred if I had dismissed as a whim my inkling to hike. It is disturbing how tenuous our potential is due to our fervent defense of the comfortable norm.
— David Miller, AWOL on the Appalachian Trail
You live through each memory you have hidden inside me. Through the places, we had been to and through the songs, which only we have sung and heard. Every night, I lie down and look at the sky gazing the universe in its eye. Watching the breeze and the stars carry the pieces of us and deliver it to the infinity and every time I wonder if you are doing the same somewhere.
— Akshay Vasu
The day you left, it felt like I lost a diary in which I had been writing for so long. Now all that memories flashes in bits and pieces inside my head always and makes me wish that I could sit back and read it all over again.
— Akshay Vasu
As long as we can love each other, and remember the feeling of love we had, we can die without ever really going away. All the love you created is still there. All the memories are still there. You live on--in the hearts of everyone you have touched and nurtured while you were here.
— Mitch Albom, Tuesdays with Morrie
And look at all I've accumulated---a house! piles of clothing! two children! an ex-husband! books! boxes of letters! dishes! tiny shampoos from fancy hotels! vases! canned goods! jewelry! computers! acres of old journals! couches! bedsteads! toys galore! stuffed animals! and heaps of memories like wet rags, bunches of them, hanging off me, weighing me down.
— Martha Tod Dudman, Augusta, Gone: A True Story
Memories. Created in a moment, remembered for a lifetime.
— Daniel Sasaki
Perhaps the reason we so often experience happiness only in hindsight, and that any deliberate campaign to achieve it is so misguided, is that it isn't an obtainable goal in itself but only an artereffect. It's the consequence of having lived in the way that we're supposed to - by which I don't mean ethically correct but fully, consicously engaged in the business of living.
— Tim Kreider, We Learn Nothing
These are hard memories, and I will save the rest of the story for another time.
— Ellen Emerson White, Voyage on the Great Titanic: The Diary of Margaret Ann Brady, R.M.S. Titanic, 1912
An odd thing souvenir-hunting: now becomes then even while it is still now.
— Margaret Atwood, The Blind Assassin
[T]hose most precious memories are hidden in the safest place of all. Safe from fire or floods or war. In stories. Stories remembered, until they are ready to be told. Or perhaps simply ready to be heard.
— Aminatta Forna, Ancestor Stones
I think that perhaps everyone has a moment that splits their life in two. When you look back on your own time line there's a sharp spike somewhere along the way, some event that changed you, changed your life more than the others. A moment that creates a before and an after. Maybe it's when you meet your love or you figure out your life's passion or you have your first child. Maybe it's something wonderful. Maybe it's something tragic. But when it happens it tints your memories, shifts your perspective on your own life and it suddenly seems as if everyone you've been through falls under the label of pre or post.
— Taylor Jenkins Reid, One True Loves
Steven and I had always come to the market to check out the fresh flowers, so when Friday came around with the fresh roses, I always stood in the middle of it all, breathing in the memories and breathing out the hurt.
— Brittainy C. Cherry, The Air He Breathes
As he turns around and her eyes meet his, she lets go off the breath that she had been holding back. All the words she had practised to say when the moment arrived, dissolve at the tip of her tongue. All the things she wanted him to know escape her in the thick blanket of nostalgia that wraps itself around her.
— Faraaz Kazi, More Than Just Friends
I handed the photo back to her. The caretaker gazed at it as if it were a lucky charm, a return ticket to her youth.
— Carlos Ruiz Zafón, The Shadow of the Wind
As I went back alone over that familiar road, I could almost believe that a boy and girl ran along beside me, as our shadows used to do, laughing and whispering to each other in the grass.
— Willa Cather, My Ántonia
I believe in good memories. I like to have those memories again, i also believe in love, Honesty, Kindness and being loyal. my favorite memories was when me and my brother and sister were kids and palying football together, i remember we had lots of fun. specially me and my younger sister love to play computer game too, i still remember that we wanted so badly to play , i think that kids love to play, so i am going to say to all parents that let your kids enjoy their life, take care of them good and teach them to be kind, be honest, to love and respect others. it was an amazing time and amazing memories, it make me happy when i look back at those memories but it also make me sad cause i missed those memories .
— Arash Tabish
I am old enough now to have all the memories of my people locked within my head. I remember things that happened long before I was born. I remember things that never happened at all. I live in memory. –Anton
— Orson Scott Card, Ender's Shadow
Why, Reshi?"The words poured out of Bast in a sudden gush. "Why did you stay there when it was so awful?"Kvothe nodded to himself, as if he had been expecting the question. "Where else was there for me to go, Bast? Everyone I knew was dead.""Not everyone," Bast insisted. "There was Abenthy. You could have gone to him.""Hallowfell was hundreds of miles away, Bast," Kvothe said wearily as he wandered to the other side of the room and moved behind the bar. Hundreds of miles without my father's maps to guide me. Hundredsof miles without wagons to ride or sleep in. Without help of any sort, or money, or shoes. Not an impossible journey, I suppose. But for a young child, still numb with the shock of losing his parents. . . ."Kvothe shook his head. "No. In Tarbean at least I could beg or steal. I'd managed to survive in the forest for a summer, barely. But over the winter?" He shook his head. "I would have starved or frozen todeath."Standing at the bar, Kvothe filled his mug and began to add pinches of spice from several small containers, then walked toward the great stone fireplace, a thoughtful expression on his face. "You're right, of course. Anywhere would have been better than Tarbean."He shrugged, facing the fire. "But we are all creatures of habit. It is far too easy to stay in the familiar ruts we dig for ourselves. Perhaps I even viewed it as fair. My punishment for not being there to help when the Chandrian came. My punishment for not dying when I should have, with the rest of my family."Bast opened his mouth, then closed it and looked down at the tabletop, frowning.Kvothe looked over his shoulder and gave a gentle smile. "I'm not saying it's rational, Bast. Emotions by their very nature are not reasonable things. I don't feel that way now, but back then I did. I remember."He turned back to the fire. "Ben's training has given me a memory so clean and sharp I have to be careful not to cut myself sometimes."Kvothe took a mulling stone from the fire and dropped it into his wooden mug. It sank with a sharp hiss.The smell of searing clove and nutmeg filled the room.Kvothe stirred his cider with a long-handled spoon as he made his way back to the table. "You must also remember that I was not in my right mind. Much of me was still in shock, sleeping if you will. I needed something, or someone, to wake me up."He nodded to Chronicler, who casually shook his writing hand to loosen it, then unstoppered his inkwell.Kvothe leaned back in his seat. "I needed to be reminded of things I had forgotten. I needed a reason to leave. It was years before I met someone who could do those things." He smiled at Chronicler. "Before I met Skarpi.
— Patrick Rothfuss, The Name of the Wind
It make me upset, whenever i look back and think of old days, it bring me so many memories, i have done lots of mistakes,I made lots of people sad, but I have got a lot of great memories too, i had so many amazing days and wounderful memories but i also know which those days are over. i don't think i will let my self ever do so much terrible things, i want to change myself in a better shape, a better an understandable person, i want to be a good person, i want to love all humans beyond any condition, i believe they are all my brothers and sisters, no matter if they have different religions or they don't have any religion at all, i will keep loving them even if some of them hurt me, i will not allow myself to hurt them back cause i want to be a better person and i want to stay human, cause i believe we should not hurt each other even if they did, we should not do it back. Let's stay human.
— Arash Tabish
Time can heal and time can help forgive and forget because in time the memories fade. The time will go so slow so fast and love will stay if it's right.
— Kate McGahan
My memories of my time in high altitude astronomy indicate that there were no oxygen concentration monitors or alarms in the areas that liquid nitrogen was in use at the high altitude astronomical facilities where I had worked.
— Steven Magee
People who don't respect the time you spent with them, don't know they have lost the gift of good memories.
— Aditya Bhaskara
I saw love in your smile and I recognized it for the first time in my life. But you had a plane to catch and I was already home.
— Lang Leav, Memories
Why don’t we keep track of the happy moments, so that afterward we will believe them? Is he the same man Was he really sincere?
— Naguib Mahfouz, أفراح القبة
Sometimes I accidentally walk into the places where I and you had spoken before, existed before, which still have the smell ofyour memories, all of a sudden it starts feeling like I have entered a dark room without a door anywhere. Where I can always hear that song I used to love once before.
— Akshay Vasu
Things, events, that occupy space yet come to an end when someone dies make us stop in wonder - and yet one thing, or an infinite number of things, dies with every man's or woman's death, unless the universe itself has a memory, as theosophists have suggested. In the course of time there was one day that closed the last eyes that had looked on Christ; the battle of Junín and the love of Helen died with the death of one man. What will die with me the day I die? What pathetic or frail image will be lost to the world? The voice of Macedonio Fernández, the image of a bay horse in a vacant lot on the corner of Sarrano and Charcas, a bar of sulfur in the drawer of a mahogany desk?
— Jorge Luis Borges, Collected Fictions
she had experienced something beautiful, and he had failed to experience it with her. The two ways in which their memories reacted to the evening storm sharply delimit love and non-love.
— Milan Kundera, The Unbearable Lightness of Being
When she remembered a summer it would be this one. When she remembered love it would be his.
— C.J. Carlyon, The Cherry House
As a boy, I remember my father telling me a bedtime story about the day my grandfather was decapitated.
— Justin Bienvenue, Opium Warfare
Memories are like a box full of chocolates, you can't have them all at once.
— Sarvani Rajdeep
When the dead betray the living, the victims are memories.--The Book of Brin
— Michael J. Sullivan, Age of Myth
Taking time to create memories will stamp moments that will forever be etched on your heart and on the hearts of your children.
— Eve M. Harrell, Confessions of a Helicopter Mom
Some memories aren’t meant to go down smoothly
—  they’re meant to choke you until you suffocate.
It occurred to him, for the first time, that it did unflattering things to a person when affection was taken away from them. For there had been a time when she had seemed gorgeous, and fun, and all of her naughtiness had had for him a kind of irresistible pull. It was only after he decided he didn't want her anymore that she became a shrew, and obliterated his memory of the girl she used to be.
— Anna Godbersen, Splendor
But as I began to write this book, I realised that without the whole truth my life would have no power, no real meaning. With the help of my mother, the memories of our lives in North Korea and China cane back to me like scenes from a forgotten nightmare. Some of the images reappeared with a terrible clarity; others were hazy, or scrambled like a deck of cards spilled on the floor. The process of writing has been the process of remembering, and of trying to make sense out of those memories.
— Yeonmi Park
We take pictures with peopleso they could remember usand leave memories behindso they don’t forget us.And the differencebetween the two are the same.We leave these momentsin the air,hoping that somewheresomeone will find themand make sense of everythingwe chose to ignore.
— Robert M. Drake, Black Butterfly
I still remember the day my father took me to the Cemetery of Forgotten Books for the first time. It was the early summer of 1945, and we walked through the streets of a Barcelona trapped beneath ashen skies as dawn poured over Rambla de Santa Monica in a wreath of liquid copper.
— Carlos Ruiz Zafón, The Shadow of the Wind
Memories lurk like dustballs in the backs of drawers. The stereo is a special model that plays only music fraught with poignant associations.
— Jay McInerney
I write because I can remember and to keep those memories alive. I write for pleasure. I write because I must.
— F.M. Burgett
In the memories we Survive
— Tushar Saxena
But still, 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.
— Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore
So many memories come rushing over me as I stand here. They run through my mind like a movie…an old Italian movie. Some scenes are in black and white. Some are in vivid color. Some are silent…just images etched into my memory. Many are filled with laughter or tears. They all bring back the happiness of Terra d’Amore and a life in the paradise of my youth. The sights and the sounds and the smells are all returning to me now, filling up my senses, overwhelming my heart.
— Giacomino Nicolazzo, Terra d'Amore. Sojourners
What I remember most about those days is how happy we all were. When I think back on my life growing up on Terra d’Amore, tides of warm memories wash over me like the waves of the Mediterranean. Our little farm, nestled in the hills and valleys of Montecalvo just outside Bologna, was idyllic. Indeed, it was an Italian paradise...a veritable heaven.
— Giacomino Nicolazzo
I beg your pardon, but don’t cry for me, Argentina. A little rain’s bound to fall on those roses of yours—a dribble, a drizzle, a deluge. Think you’re the only one with wet flowers? A tear rolls down my cheek and some of the heaviness I’ve been carrying trickles out with it. Why me? Why pain? Why suffering? Why heartache? Because we’re a forgetful bunch, always busy with the daily grind. We overlook the good things until we’re confronted with the bad. There but for the grace of God...and all that jazz. Life is how we measure it. And people have different currencies. Some are tangible. Others are carried in your heart. Like the woman beside me, I’ve been dwelling on what I’ve lost, not what I have. Her riches vanished in a moment. Mine, thankfully, remain — wonderful childhood memories, a caring husband, a baby on the way. Wet roses? They’ll dry. Meanwhile, I’ll enjoy the rest of my garden.
— Roxy Boroughs, Letting Go
Like all our memories, we like to take it out once in a while and lay it flat on the kitchen table, the way my wife does with her sewing patterns, where we line up the shape of our life against that which we thought it would be by now.I'll tell you what I don't tell her, that there is something shameful in this, the buoying of our sinking spirits with old stories.
— Claire Vay Watkins
When I was instructed to use medical oxygen to do my job at the W. M. Keck Observatory from 2001 to 2006, I was never told about the legal health information that is now posted on oxygen cylinders. My memories of the green medical oxygen cylinders that we would use daily is that they had no information on them and we were never given a recognised legal oxygen administration training course for routine daily use or a medical prescription from a doctor. We were shown the three oxygen cylinders at the facility and told to use them whenever we developed headaches, which was multiple times daily. It was common to find all three oxygen cylinders in use by other very high altitude workers and to have to line up to get a turn on the magical medical gas.
— Steven Magee
I have found that sometimes, moments get stuck in your body. They are there, lodged under your skin like hard seed-stones of wonder or sadness or fear, everything else growing up around them. And if you turn a certain way, if you fall, one of them could get free. It might dissolve in your blood, or it might spring up a whole tree. Sometimes, once one of them gets out, they all start to go.
— Ava Dellaira, Love Letters to the Dead
I will be fine
—  as far as the wind will bring me the memories i have spent with you
The log on the fire: is it dreaming of the forest?
— Marty Rubin
I want to live my life in such a way that it colors my things with memories.
— Marie Kondō, Spark Joy: An Illustrated Master Class on the Art of Organizing and Tidying Up
Memories, good and bad, can be used to help us heal if we don’t let ourselves be mired down in them.
— Sarah Jo Smith, The Other Side of Heartache
Her favourite summer memories were not of events themselves, of picnics, sea bathing, tennis afternoons and cricket matches, but of watching Hugh and Daniel enjoying them and locking into memory the delight in their faces and their open laughter.
— Helen Simonson, The Summer Before the War
It almost feels like at some point life whacks you on top of the head and hands you a list of all the things you can keep. The list is surprisingly long. You can keep letters. You can keep trying. You can keep secrets and you can try your hardest to keep promises. You can keep your eyes on the road. You can keep his sweatshirt, the one he left on the living room floor. You can keep photos and you can keep the memories. But you cannot keep people. People are not things - you can't keep them.
— Hannah Brencher, If You Find This Letter: My Journey to Find Purpose Through Hundreds of Letters to Strangers
At his age, it can be overwhelming and painful to harbor a thought accompanied by too much nostalgia. Not that he wanted to. Mabel, in her final years, had stopped listening to music. The songs of her teenage years brought her back to people and feelings of that time - people she could never see again and sensations that were no longer coming. It was too much for her. There are people who can manage such things. There are those of us who can no longer walk, but can close our eyes and remember a summer hike through a field, or the feeling of cool grass beneath our feet, and smile. Who still have the courage to embrace the past, and give it life and a voice in the present. But Mabel was not one of those people. Maybe she lacked that very form of courage. Or maybe her humanity was so complete, so expansive, that she would be crushed by her capacity to imagine the love that was gone.
— Derek B. Miller, Norwegian by Night
Some Memories are better be destroyed.. you never know when do you fall in love with someone, and when you're kicked out.. it's life, crazy enough!
— Himmilicious
And all love that had overtaken her would have to be a memory, a truck on the interstate roaring up from the left, a thing she must let pass.
— Lorrie Moore, Like Life
I could hardly sleep and even when I did drop off, I awoke to a grim thought: I’m disgusting. I can’t play any more. I went to bed with Dudek and all his Liverpool team-mates.
— Andrea Pirlo, Penso quindi gioco
So I still like to see you, my friend. I still like to sit in La Côte Basque and sip wine and eat fine food and indulge in our memories—the good ones, the ones we want to remember. So let’s do that. That’s the story we can tell ourselves, at night when we can’t sleep. We can tell ourselves that there is one other person in the world who sees it in the same way, who remembers. Who remembers her. Babe. And Gloria. And even Truman, I guess, as he was, back then. Our fun, gossipy friend. Our entrée into a different world, for a time. An amusing, brief little time. A time before it was fashionable to tell the truth, and the world grew sordid from too much honesty.
— Melanie Benjamin, The Swans of Fifth Avenue
I long for the days when I was One with the one who was the only one I could be One with.
— Faith Tigere
One of our duties on this planet is to dissolve the negative emotions associated with negative memories while we motivate ourselves and other people.
— Hina Hashmi, Your Life A Practical Guide to Happiness Peace and Fulfilment
Things could change Gabe. Things could be different. I don't know how, but there must be some way for things to be different. There could be colors. And grandparents. And everybody would have memories. You know about memories...Gabe, there could be love.
— Lois Lowry, The Giver
All my memories are poisoned.
— George R.R. Martin, A Dance with Dragons
Memories have big value,... look back look what you have lost (For a moment)..., look what you have been making with this something or somebody... (For a moment) and look now without it... That's value, this is what robots don't have but humanity have!
— Deyth Banger
We talked for four hours. I don't remember most of it, but often a little moment in an unrelated conversation or alone on the street will trigger a memory of it I didn't know I had. So I know it's all there somewhere.
— B.J. Novak, One More Thing: Stories and Other Stories
I'm only remembering unnecessary things because I'm alone.
— Mika Yamamori, ひるなかの流星 9 [Hirunaka no Ryuusei 9]
There are things, also, that are memories as essential and structural as bones in toes and fingers.
— A.S. Byatt, The Children's Book
How wonderful it must be, to be unable to remember things that once caused us distress. Yet we should embrace all our memories, whether joyful or painful. They're all we ever really own in this life.
— Isabel Wolff, Ghostwritten
The memories of sensei I carry with me are more cruel than sensei himself.
— Mika Yamamori, ひるなかの流星 9 [Hirunaka no Ryuusei 9]
I want to make people around me happy, because I never know that laughter I gave to them would be my last gift I could offer.
— Jimbo J. Antipolo
Only if the human mind had a Garbage Collector.But then, do we know what references we still hold on?
— Sapan Saxena
I needed a fresh start, away from the memories that we had made for him, away from the home that didn't feel like my own anymore.Away from the people that had been ready to welcome him. Away from Honour and Ali.
— Ruth Ahmed, When Ali Met Honour
The house had been torn down. Nothing is left but the old white fence. There used to be privet bushes everywhere. "The smell of privet is the smell of summer for me," I say to Catherine."Yes, Mom." she says, "I know, Your memories are my memories now.
— Abigail Thomas
when evoking personal recollections, patients with depersonalization often complain that memories feel as if they really didn't happen to them
— Mauricio Sierra, Depersonalization: A New Look at a Neglected Syndrome
The lily and the poem made it all real for me; now I knew my memories would stay with me forever. I held the lily and the poem to my heart, and concluded that my life was not a series of sand castles. There was meaning to life, and precious memories even amidst the sadness.
— Sook Nyul Choi, Echoes of the White Giraffe
We talked for four hours. I don't remember most of it, but often a little moment in an unrelated conversation or alone on the street will trigger a memory of it that I didn't know I had. So I know it's all there somewhere.
— B.J. Novak, One More Thing: Stories and Other Stories
It was so bad, it was worth more than we paid.
— Bill Bryson, In a Sunburned Country
Things don't always end up the way we planned but it doesn't mean the plan wasn't magical while it lasted.
— Kealohilani
Lila cringed at the ghost of Barron's words, a memory with edges still too sharp to touch.
— V.E. Schwab, A Gathering of Shadows
No, honey. Maybe you can put the things from the Overlook away in lockboxes, but not memories. Never those. They’re the real ghosts.
— Stephen King, Doctor Sleep
Photographs, it seems to me, are both moments in time and bits of memory.
— Craig Lancaster, 600 Hours of Edward
Nothing ever happens to me, " she reflected..... An older person at such an hour and in such a place might think that sufficient was happening to him, and rest content. Lucy desired more.
— E.M. Forster
We used to believe that memories were best retrieved in the same place that they were first laid down. Like everything else we think we know, that's not so clear anymore.
— Karen Joy Fowler, We Are All Completely Beside Ourselves
I once took a poo in the woods while hunched over like an animal. It was AWESOME.
— Drew Barrymore
I have done things that are memorable to me. Some of them had brought sadness instantly to me, and others happiness. But I wished I had not made them in the first place, even more for the joyful ones. For they bring pain in me, as what have had happened there will be a memory, and will always stay as one. We can never relive those times, and that is what's haunting me, and brings pain in me...
— Anonymous
‪Rain is not a seasonal change, it’s a feeling that brings back ‪Memories!
— Adnan Bhatti
A pure white puppy followed on the girl’s heels, barking, and the girl laughed in the breathless, drunken way of children as she ran into the hallway.
— Kit Alloway, Dreamfever
You can't always keep your loved ones with you. You can't always settle your life in one place. The world was made to change. But as long as you cherish the memories and make new ones along on the way, no matter where you are, you'll always be at home.
— Marieke Nijkamp, This Is Where It Ends
All the people we loved, who have died, are still alive in the past. The only thing that really separates us is time. It's a matter of perspective. That's what separates optimism and pessimism.
— Diana Palmer, Carrera's Bride
They say you start weaving clearer, sharper memories after you've been to a place at least twice. Because then the reflection is more of validation. Let the rush come to you and let your senses be flushed the first time. There will be time for reflection after you've had your fill.
— Psyche Roxas-Mendoza
Memories: some can be sucker punching, others carry you forward; some stay with you forever, others you forget on your own. You can’t really know which ones you’ll survive if you don’t stay on the battlefield, bad times shooting at you like bullets. But if you’re lucky, you’ll have plenty of good times to shield you.
— Adam Silvera, More Happy Than Not
I don’t need those memories, Kai. We can make new ones. We… can start over. Just like we’ve met only yesterday.
— Hyperionova
They have both loved you with a child’s love, and now a man’s. It is the child’s love that holds you together . . . cemented by the moments you shared with them that they treasure most.
— A.G. Howard, Ensnared
City of memories, city of mirrors.
— Justin Cronin, The City of Mirrors
Your memories don't make you who you are.
— Dan Krokos, False Memory
Sometimes it’s nice to remember the little things.
— A.D. Aliwat, Alpha
Do you remember how your mom would wrap the presents so well it’d take at least five minutes to find where you could rip the paper?”I snorted. “Yes, and they were wrapped so much it was like unwrapping a hundred packages from morning ‘til lunch. It was Mom’s way of extending Christmas.”“I loved that—it always built the excitement. Just when you thought you had it, you had to unroll it. I miss her—she was like a second mother to me.
— Shaye Evans
It's not our memories but the person we have become because of those past experiences that we should treasure.
— Marie Kondō, The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up: The Japanese Art of Decluttering and Organizing [A SkipForward Summary]
Even if this spring the dappled leaves should shelter our minds from the moon's pale echo we would still remember how once they were sheltered by our skulls only from the day's sun and the night's stars and never from what we feared and what we remembered
— Dan Davin
Stories weren't just make believe, all Dr. Seuss and Mother Goose. I saw a circle: first life, then death. Spring, summer, fall, winter. Blue sky and storms and quilts of cold clouds occupy the same space but at different times. Memories and stories help you rebuild. Things most precious to you may be gone, lost to the wicked wind, but you remember what had been, and you move on.
— Rachael Hanel, We'll Be the Last Ones to Let You Down: Memoir of a Gravedigger's Daughter
She could not bring herself to turn away from the night sky, for the stars and the blackness were the only escape she had when old faded memories returned to haunt her.
— Narayan Liu, The Masks of Monsters
When parents talk about their pasts, the stories start to stick in your head. But the memories that you inherit look different from the now-world, and different from your own memories, too. Like they have a color all their own. I don’t mean sepia-toned or something. My parents aren’t even that old. I just mean that there is something particular about their glow.
— Ava Dellaira, Love Letters to the Dead
I assumed that looking back reminded older guys of what they had shot at and missed, the what-ifs, the good memories, the bad, the people left behind, the people who moved on.
— Dan Groat, An Enigmatic Escape: A Trilogy
When I was younger, I was told that there is too much inside me. That I have feelings where others have bone. At the age of seven, a doctor tapped inside my head and asked, "Do you choke on memories from time to time? Do you cry for no good reason at all? Do words take a hammer to your head and crack your skull?" Yes, yes, yes, I nodded. "Then you've definitely got them," he said, as he checked off a box on his list. "Too many feelings. What a shame. Try not to keep them inside or you'll drown.
— Lora Mathis
As long as we can love each other, and remember the feeling of love we had, we can die without ever really going away. All the love you created is still there. All the memories are still there You live on--in the hearts of everyone you have touched and nurtured while you were here..... Death ends a life, not a relationship" -Morrie Schwartz
— Mitch Albom from "Tuesdays with Morrie"