Quotes about Memories

But just now, Timothy has returned from his visit with the good news about your faith, your love, and the fond memories you have preserved, longing to see us just as we long to see you.

I sometimes wonder how people like Bart, who no longer believe in the grace of God, handle their guilt. Perhaps, as Sigmund Freud suggested, they repress it by burying the memories of past sins deep within themselves. But Freud went on to explain that such repression doesn't really work in the long run, and that guilt always emerges from the subconscious, sometimes as phobias and sometimes as neurotic behavior.

So yeah, maybe this will be the rest of our lives. Pot roast and Diet Cokes and my parents making eyes at each other. As for those slaps and punches and hateful words, we'll just sweep those under the rug or wherever they can go.

Things pass, and the best we can do is to let them really go away. Getting rid of certain memories also means making some room for other memories to take their place.

We become imprisoned by our memories, and that makes our lives wretched.

People never leave, we are always here in our past and future lives.

Of the unchanging things, the town in which you first saw the light is one of the most unchanging. It is always a place of monotony but at the same time, as you grow, change, go away, remember, return, and go away again, it is one of the most inexhaustibly rich places. And yet what it is is so nearly nothing, except for the dull, drab, lonely, lost objects of it, that you never know, each time you return to it, what it is that holds you so strongly to it.

The harvest of old age is the recollection and abundance of blessing previously secured.

How it is I know not; but there is no place like a bed for confidential disclosures between friends. Man and wife, they say, there open the very bottom of their souls to each other; and some old couples often lie and chat over old times till nearly morning. Thus, then, in our hearts honeymoon, lay I and Queequeg -- a cozy, loving pair.

My father loves Las Vegas, and he loves to play craps. Growing up, I'd find old Caesars Palace chips in his pocket that he forgot to cash out.

I love Las Vegas in a way separate from my love of any other American city. For me, growing up, it was a town of many firsts and where I enjoy a level of anonymity.

It's weird how when you don't hang out with someone for a while and then you do again, you miss them. It's like you forget to miss them until they show up to remind you.