#memories

What was our life like? I almost don't remember now. Though I remember it, the space of time it occupied. And I remember it fondly. ↗

— Richard Ford

#marriage #memories #memory #nostalgia #life

I don't know where to start," one [writing student] will wail. Start with your childhood, I tell them. Plug your nose and jump in, and write down all your memories as truthfully as you can. Flannery O' Connor said that anyone who has survived childhood has enough material to write for the rest of his or her life. Maybe your childhood was grim and horrible, but grim and horrible is Okay if it is well done. Don't worry about doing it well yet, though. Just get it down. ↗

— Anne Lamott

#child #childhood #encouragement #memoir #memories

You staying home all alone on New Year's Eve? Unthinkable. Take my advice ... the countdown should be shared with someone, or it's just another set of numbers passing you by. ↗

— E.A. Bucchianeri

#celebrations #countdowns #home-alone #making-memories #new-year

Tell the story, gather the events, repeat them. Pattern is a matter of upkeep. Otherwise the weave relaxes back to threads picked up by birds to make their nests. Repeat, or the story will fall and all the king's horses and all the king's men. . . . Repeat, and cradle the pieces carefully, or events will scatter like marbles on a wooden floor. ↗

— Ann-Marie MacDonald

#memories #truth #life

I don't know why they call it life, it's just a moment with memories. ↗

— Tibor Fischer

#memories #philosophy #the-thought-gang #tibor-fischer #life

I remember when your name was just another name that rolled without thought off my tongue. Now, I can’t look at your name without an abundance of sentiment attached to each lettter. Your name, which I played with so carelessly, so easily, has somehow become sacred to my lips. A name I won’t throw around lightheartedly or repeat without deep thought. And if ever I speak of you, I use the English language to describe who you were to me. You are nameless, because those letters grouped together in that familiar form….. carries too much meaning for my capricious heart. ↗

— Coco J. Ginger

#love #love-story #memories #names #passion

How do you know when it's over?" "Maybe when you feel more in love with your memories than with the person standing in front of you. ↗

— Gunnar Ardelius

#i-love-you #i-need-you #love #maybe #memories

I shall remain thankful to you for the tenderness of your arms that held me when I wept onto your shoulder, and that held me throughout that winter, after every bicycle accident and every B minus. I discovered Bulbul that you could make everything all right, by blowing softly over scraped knees… but one such winter day, by which time our childhood heroes had become older men with ordinary problems, I might’ve confessed to being in love with you and you, in a moment of ruthless propriety, had pretended not to hear.’ ('Left from Dhakeshwari') ↗

— Kunal Sen

#love #love

I became skilled at covering my tracks, filling in the blanks. Sometimes the blanks were never filled. At other times, I would recall places where I had been or things I had done as if from a dream, which made the playback of my father and other men abusing me seem I even less real, fantasies conjured up from my imagination I not my memory. Perhaps somebody else’s memory. I didn’t think of myself as having mental-health problems. You don’t at sixteen. I thought of myself as being special, highly strung, moody. ↗

— Alice Jamieson

#amnesia #dissociation #dissociative #dissociative-identity-disorder #incest

What are we, if not an accumulation of our memories? ↗

— S.J. Watson

#memories #nature