Where would we be in this soulless universe if there weren't a few people who hold on to memories, their hearts yearning for long-lost feelings?

How can days and happenings and moments so good become so quickly ugly, and for no reason, for no real reason? Just - change.With nothing causing it.

...The human mind is a complicated place...We hold on to things, images, words, ideas, histories that we don't even know we're holding on to.

Asides your power, passion and poise, what glues the posters of your impacts on memorial walls is how you treat those you need and those who need you.

The most beautiful moments always seemed to accelerate and slip beyond one’s grasp just when you want to hold onto them for as long as possible.

Because in the end, we die. It’s like Chekhov observed in so many of his plays: ‘in two hundred years, no one will even know we were here.

Whether you need to remember the past or not, It changes nothing but gives the best choice for the future that makes You always to remember your past.

We humans are different--our brains are built not to fix memories in stone but rather to transform them. Our recollections change in their retelling.

Those are exactly the kind of memories I try to avoid, but they're like abestos: invisible and deadly. You need special gear to get rid of them.

The lonely, wistful revisionism of memories is as gratingly repetitive as snow and ice in Canada. I avoid them both at all costs - memories and Canada.

If you haven't cried at least once while writing a chapter of your inspirational book, then you have to ask yourself if your're writing fiction.

But all memories, no matter how distant, no matter how distorted, have the shadow of truth underneath. Even the most imperfect memory is a window—

I've been wondering," Isabelle commented reflectively over dessert, "if it is foolish to make new memories when you know you are going to lose them.

I slipped on a turtleneck, laughing when my head became stuck in the turtle part. If they weren't called turtlenecks, I wouldn't have worn them.

I could wade into this river, let my sins drown to the bottom, let the waters carry me someplace far. Someplace with no ghosts, no memories, and no sins.