Discover the most popular and inspiring quotes and sayings on the topic of Memories. Share them with your friends on social media platforms like Facebook, Twitter, or your personal blogs, and let the world be inspired by their powerful messages. Here are the Top 100 Memories Quotes And Sayings by 96 Authors including Harlan Coben,Joan Didion,Balroop Singh,Madeline Miller,J.g. Ballard for you to enjoy and share.
Memories, you see, hurt. The good ones most of all.
Memories are what you no longer want to remember.
Memories are those endless treasures, which we can keep exploring till eternity and bask in their glory like a slow swinging hammock!
I am made of memories.
Memories have huge staying power, but like dreams, they thrive in the dark, surviving for decades in the deep waters of our minds like shipwrecks on the sea bed.
Memory, like love, is an act of imagination, an abandonment and a possession.
Memories are precious ... they help tell us who we are.
Moments go by in your life, becoming memories, and once the people who were apart of them are gone, so is the magic of the memory. A memory once told with laughter or detail, fades into a story long forgotten, like an ancestor remembered only by name.
Memories are nice, but dreams are better.
memories are the most powerful chains,
Memory - the very skin of life.
Memories are important, like the bones of the mind. We build ourselves upon them, flesh and blood moulded around the pictures of what is past.
Memories are not always the best measure of things.
Memories must enter the bloodstream, must churn awhile through the heart's mill, must be crushed and polished, be nearly forgotten or cling like burs to other stories before they spill forth in purple patterns, shapes of small bones and worm rot, shapes of clouds and the spaces between leaves.
What is a memory? Not a storehouse, not a trunk in the attic, but an instrument that constantly refines the past into a narrative, accessible and acceptable to oneself.
Memory performs the impossible for man; holds together past and present, gives continuity and dignity to human life.
Memories are what warm you up from the inside. But they're also what tear you apart
Memories, like everything else, are momentary.
Memories just get richer with time.
And never forget, there is memory.
Some memories were all right, but others were dangerous.
My most salient memories
I have more memories than if I were a thousand years old.
Memory belongs to the imagination.
Our memories are what make us who we are. Some are real. Some are made up. But they are the stories that tell us who we are. Without them we are nobody.
Remembrance of things past.
On the stem of memory imaginations blossom.
Memories are fragile; they can be broken and forgotten or preserved like a tomb.
Sometimes memory is the only gift we give ourselves and the only hope we have of finding our way home.
Memory is a great deceiver: it embroiders until naught is left but the glory and the pleasure.
Memories rob us of the present.
There's nothing as beautiful and empowering in life than a memory.
Moments give birth to new memories
Memories are bullets. Some whiz by and only spook you. Others tear you open and leave you in pieces.
There were some memories, though, that never faded.
Keep the good memories and throw out the bad ones
Memories are nothing but the lash with which yesterday flogs tomorrow.
We are the sum total of our memories. Memories are the most precious things we have. Good or bad. That's what make us who we are. What would we be without them?
Secret memories
not on the road
of our other memories!
The memories we're fondest of are not always our own
Memory is the diary we all carry about with us.
Memories were just future sadness stored away
Strong feelings associated with an event can keep memories alive forever.
When the past is forgotten, the present is unforgettable
I have a million small memories that will sustain me through life.
Memory is the thing you forget with.
Regrets and Mistakes, they're Memories made
Sometimes we don't choose the memories, but they choose us.
create memories.
Memory is a haunting.
Memories are't like words; they're soft and gooey. Covered with a sticky slime, like a penis after sex, or your vagina when you menstruate, and shaped like tadpoles or tiny watersnakes
You never know when you're making a memory
Memories are strange things. Withough being something I can hold in my hand, they wield a beguiling power over me. Like a mirage in the noontime heat of summer, they dance before my inner eyes and beckon me to find water where there is not water.
It takes a moment to make memories and a lifetime to forget them.
The worst memories stick with us, while the nice ones always seem to slip through our fingers.
for those memories are now
just like these little kittens
I hold in my hands
those can be kissed
and treasured
but not held too tightly.
Some memories find a permanent place in the heart, and we remember those times as being sunlit and beautiful
Memories slip, you know, if you don't take the time to find a way to make them stay.
Memories feed us in dark times,
Memories, as my father once said, are porcupines. To hell with them! Stay away from them! They make you unhappy. They ruin your work. They make you cry
Memory is not a storage place but a story we tell ourselves in retrospect. As such, it is made of storytelling materials: embroidery and forgery, perplexity and urgency, revelation and darkness.
Memories are reality's ghosts
Our worst memories are precious, things we can't or won't forget, and sometimes they're what we guard the most.
Memories should be sharp when one has nothing else to live for
Memory - that fiend, that cruel enemy of comfort.
I don't hold memories in my hand, but I'll never let them go.
Memory can glean, but can never renew. It brings us joys faint as is the perfume of the flowers, faded and dried, of the summer that is gone.
How memory conspires with objects of human craft, pressing time flat, inciting a tender reminiscence.
Some memories refuse to be locked in time or place, they are always present.
Memories are perhaps the best gifts of all.
Who are we without our memories?
Memories are fragile things to hold, but many times, it's what we have.
These memories are part of my heritage, the fabric of my personality, and as real to me as the land itself.
The mind is a great and powerful thing, bisected with hallways of darkness and corners of light. Memories can alternately fill your life with joy and happiness and cloud every moment with nightmares and fear, making you second-guess all of the good things and wonder if they were ever real.
Memories warm you up from the inside. But they also tear you apart.
If you want to keep your memories, you first have to live them.
Memories are like mulligatawny soup in a cheap restaurant. It is best not to stir them.
Memories are like fireflies darting across the surface of my mind, showing me here and there images so sharp and vivid that I catch my breath in wonder before the vignette disappears, sinking like a pebble into the quicksand of regret and recrimination.
Memory ... is the diary that we all carry about with us.
Memory is the way we keep telling ourselves our stories - and telling other people a somewhat different version of our stories.
Memories of our childhood are like images painted on a wet canvas, they merge until they lose all shape, often remaing only as feelings.
My own memories are packed tightly away. I very rarely bring them out for viewing.
Memory is fiction,
Memories are like corks left out of bottles. They swell. They no longer fit.
Memories have to be our most painful blessing.
Still are the thoughts to memory dear.
Memories stuck under our shoes like thick mud
Several sorts of memory exist in us; body and mind each possesses one peculiar to itself. Nostalgia, for instance, is a malady of the physical memory.
Memory is fiction. We select the brightest and the darkest, ignoring what we are ashamed of, and so embroider the broad tapestry of our lives.
Good memories are my retirement plan.
The world shrieks and sinks talons into our hearts. This we call memory.
There were some feelings you never forgot.
Memory is sweet.
Even when it's painful, memory is sweet.
Memory feeds a culture, nourishes hope and makes a human, human.
Memories do not always behave in an orderly way, but bloom, as it were, erratically ...
THERE ARE MEMORIES we cannot escape. We take them with us wherever we go, however far, like it or not. They pursue us or accompany us in good times and in bad. We smell their scents. We hear their sounds. We delight in them or dread them. By day and by night. My
Time flies, but not memories.
A memory is a beautiful thing, it's almost a desire that you miss.
Memory is a paradise out of which fate cannot drive us.
[Memory] is a passion no less powerful or pervasive than love. It is [the ability] to live in more than one world, to prevent the past from fading, and to call upon the future to illuminate it.