Our lives are the sum of our memories. How much are we willing to lose from our already short lives by … not paying attention?

The only reason people hold onto memories is because memories are the only things that don't change, even when everyone else does.

I know in my life there have been breaches, but I also know that I am very good at blocking out the memories that serve me no purpose.

There are some things we can never assign to oblivion, memories we can never rub away. They remain with us forever, like a touchstone.

The future reshapes the memory of the past in the way it recalibrates significance: some episodes are advanced, others lose purchase.

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.

Judging by the photograph it seemed like I hadn’t been there at all. As if it was my camera that had been on holiday, and not me.

When you avoid going to bed early because you know that if you go, those memories will again make your pillow wet and your eyes swollen.

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.

Through pictures, we cut reality in pieces. We selected only the choicest moments, discarding the rest as if they'd never happened.

Some days in late August at home are like this, the air thin and eager like this, with something in it sad and nostalgic and familiar...

We persist and linger longer than we think, leaving traces of ourselves wherever we go. If you take that away, then we all simply vanish.

Friends are the most important part of your life. Treasure the tears, treasure the laughter, but most importantly, treasure the memories.

I take a picture, but it's not about who is in the picture or the background of it. It's about the memories and meanings it holds.

Perhaps memory is a thing that everyone involved has to work at, like stitching up a big quilt out of everything that ever happened to you.