Everyone knows that there are some odors that send you directly back to memories of your childhood - odors from Christmas time and so forth.
I had no eyelashes left. So when I cried, the tears rolled down, unabated to my mouth. My saliva tasted those days, like a salt lake. Or so he said.'('Left from Dhakeshwari')
(pl. ) of Memory
Memories are the only thing tie us to the past
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 And...
I think of you when upon the sea the sun flings her beams. I think of you when the moonlight shines in silvery streams. I see you when upon the distant hills the dust awakes; At night when on a fragil...
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?
I answer the heroic question, 'Death, where is thy sting?' with 'It is in my heart and mind and memories.
I acknowledge the privilege of being alive in a human body at this moment, endowed with senses, memories, emotions, thoughts, and the space of mind in its wisdom aspect.
It would be sad if my best work had been 20 years ago and now I only had memories.
History is a cyclic poem written by time upon the memories of man.
Someday in the distant cyborg future, when our internal and external memories fully merge, we may come to possess infinite knowledge. But that's not the same thing as wisdom.
Time goes on, and your life is still there, and you have to live it. After a while you remember the good things more often than the bad. Then, gradually, the empty silent parts of you fill up with sou...
There are moments when I wish I could roll back the clock and take all the sadness away, but I have the feeling that if I did, the joy would be gone as well.
There are memories that time does not erase... Forever does not make loss forgettable, only bearable.
The important thing about having lots of things to remember is that you’ve got to go somewhere afterwards where you can remember them, you see? You’ve got to stop. You haven’t really been anywhere unt...
Staring out to sea, I finally forced myself to stop thinking of her as someone still somewhere, if only in memory, still obscurely alive, breathing, doing, moving, but as a shovelful of ashes already...
She would never truly be her own woman if she allowed fear and old memories to dictate where she would or would not go.
Our relationship could now thrive only in my head, and to discuss it with a mother intent—admittedly in my own best interest—on challenging it with reality might do it irreparable harm.
It's just this: that there are places we all come from-deep-rooty-common places- that makes us who we are. And we disdain them or treat them lightly at our peril. We turn our backs on them at the risk...
I think it's too easy to recount your unhappy memories when you write about yourself. You bask in your own innocence. You revere your grief. You arrange your angers at their most becoming angles.