Music, at its essence, is what gives us memories. And the longer a song has existed in our lives, the more memories we have of it.
Never let your memories be greater than your dreams.
(pl. ) of Memory
A question wells up inside me, a question so big it blocks my throat and makes it hard to breathe. Somehow I swallow it back, finally choosing another. "Are memories such an important thing?""It depen...
Give me an old house full of memories and I will give you hundred novels!
I'd like to go back to five years old again. Just sometimes. To be turning over rocks and looking for pill bugs and holding earthworms, playing dolls, erecting forts, digging through dirt for marbles,...
Memories are the key not to the past, but to the future.
I spend my days trying to remember what only my soul knows but my mind can't comprehend.
There were differences between memories and dreams. He had only dreams of things he had wanted to do, while Lespere had memories of things done and accomplished. And this knowledge began to pull Holli...
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...
They say let he who is without sin cast the first stone. And to be without sin requires absolute forgiveness. But when your memories are freshly opened wounds, forgiveness is the most unnatural of hum...
To forget is to blithely toss aside the hard lessons that were hard won by others before us, thereby needlessly dooming us to endure the hard lessons that are likely to be forgotten by those who will...
Photos of yesterday give good evidence of how yesterday was and they are a true prove of history!
My first outdoor cooking memories are full of erratic British summers, Dad swearing at a barbecue that he couldn't put together, and eventually eating charred sausages, feeling brilliant.
Walk with me, memory to memory, the shared path, the mutual view. Walk with me. The past lies in wait. It is not behind. It seems to be in front. How else could it trip me as as I start to run?
Walk with me, memory to memory, the shared path, the mutual view. Walk with me. The past lies in wait. It is not behind. It seems to be in front. How else could it trip me as I start to run?
The memory of the pain did not destroy the reality of the pleasure; grief did not obliterate joy.
For a long time, she sat and saw.She had seen her brother die with one eye open, on still in a dream. She had said goodbye to her mother and imagined her lonely wait for a train back home to oblivion....
My dad taught me from my youngest childhood memories through these connections with Aboriginal and tribal people that you must always protect people's sacred status, regardless of the past.
Memories are those endless treasures, which we can keep exploring till eternity and bask in their glory like a slow swinging hammock!
With God, a mountain before me is soon to be a memory behind me.