#memory

I think about my mother singing after lunch on a Summer afternoon, twirling in blue dress across the floor of her dressing room ↗

— Audrey Niffenegger

#happiness #loss #love #memory #mother

Do you remember what we just did? Please tell me you remember what we just did." She briefly toyed with the idea of lying and saying no, just to see the look on his face, but she'd had enough of having her brain played with – it wouldn't be too sporting to do the same to him. "Yes, I remember, and don't you think for one minute that just because you had me on my back screaming I was 'yours'," she waved four fingers in quotation marks in front of his face, "that it gives you any kind of ownership over me, because it doesn't." He looked annoyed, then relieved, then he laughed. "Yeah, whatever, baby. ↗

— Dianna Hardy

#humour #making-love #memory #ownership #pueblo-and-amy

You, whom I have always loved and never found, you whom I expected to see at the end of the rails beyond the horizon— ↗

— Ayn Rand

#idea #love #memory #unattainable #love

Any time gone by was better. ↗

— Jorge Manrique

#nostalgia #remembrance #time #nostalgia

I'd trade all my tomorrows for one single yesterday. ↗

— Kris Kristofferson

#nostalgia #song-lyrics #nostalgia

This is the postmodern desert inhabited by people who are, in effect, consuming themselves in the form of images and abstractions through which their desires, sense of identity, and memories are replicated and then sold back to them as products ↗

— Larry McCaffrey

#consumerism #identity #memory #postmodernism #capitalism

The undead did not love, but they remembered love with a savage loyalty. ↗

— Kim Harrison

#memory #undead #love

It is singular how soon we lose the impression of what ceases to be constantly before us. A year impairs, a luster obliterates. There is little distinct left without an effort of memory, then indeed the lights are rekindled for a moment - but who can be sure that the Imagination is not the torch-bearer? ↗

— Lord Byron

#imagination

The right honorable gentleman is indebted to his memory for his jests, and to his imagination for his facts. ↗

— Richard Brinsley Sheridan

#imagination #jests #jokes #memory #imagination

Her memory's your love. You want no other. ↗

— Henry James

#love