Recalling days of sadness, memories haunt me. Recalling days of happiness, I haunt my memories.
What greater thing is there for two human souls than to feel that they are joined for life? to strengthen each otherto be at one with each other in silent unspeakable memories.
What greater thing is there for two human souls than to feel that they are joined for life? [there] to strengthen each other [and] to be at one with each other in silent unspeakable memories.
What greater thing is there for two human souls than to feel that they are joined for life - to strengthen each other in all labor, to rest on each other in all sorrow, to minister to each other in all pain, to be one with each other in silent, unspeakable memories.
We wallow in nostalgia but manage to get it all wrong. True nostalgia is an ephemeral composition of disjointed memories. .
Curiosity is one of the lowest of the human faculties. You will have noticed in daily life that when people are inquisitive they nearly always have bad memories and are usually stupid at bottom.
Memories of our lives, of our works and our deeds will continue in others.
School's out, Memories past, Don't ever doubt, Our friendship will last.
Memories are hunting horns whose sound dies on the wind.
We must always have old memories and young hopes.
Creditors have better memories than debtors.
Liars ought to have good memories
Memories are nothing but the lash with which yesterday flogs tomorrow.
Our memories are the only paradise from which we can never be expelled.
The difference between false memories and true ones is the same as for jewels: it is always the false ones that look the most real, the most brilliant.
God gave us memories that we might have roses in December.
Everybody needs his memories. They keep the wolf of insignificance from the door.
For some life lasts a short while, but the memories it holds last forever.
Behind all creation is silence. Silence is the essential condition, the vital ingredient for all creation and all that is created. It is a power in its own right. The artist starts with a blank canvas - silence. The composer places it between and behind the notes. The very ground of your being, out of which comes all your thoughts, is silence. The way to silence is through meditation. When you arrive in your own silence you will know true freedom and real power. Stop, take a minute, and listen to the silence within you today. Then be aware of what disturbs your inner silence. It could be negative thoughts, memories, sensations. And when you are aware, you will know what is draining your creative power, and you will know what needs to change...on the inside!
Ocean is more ancient than the mountains, and freighted with the memories and the dreams of Time.
A life-long blessing for children is to fill them with warm memories of times together. Happy memories become treasures in the heart to pull out on the tough days of adulthood.
The shore is an ancient world, for as long as there has been an earth and sea there has been this place of the meeting of land and water. Yet it is a world that keeps alive the sense of continuing creation and of the relentless drive of life. Each time that I enter it, I gain some new awareness of its beauty and its deeper meanings, sensing that intricate fabric of life by which one creature is linked with another, and each with its surroundings...
There is a common thread that links these scenes and memories -- the spectacle of life in all its varied manifestations as it has appeared, evolved, and sometimes died out. Underlying the beauty of the spectacle there is meaning and significance. It is the elusiveness of that meaning that haunts us, that sends us again and again into the natural world where the key to the riddle is hidden. It sends us back to the edge of the sea, where the drama of life played its first scene on earth and perhaps even its prelude; where the forces of evolution are at work today, as they have been since the appearance of what we know as life; and where the spectacle of living creatures faced by the cosmic realities of their world is crystal clear.
Every part of this country is sacred to my people. Every hillside, every valley, every plain and grove has been hallowed by some fond memory or some sad experience of my tribe. Even the rocks, which seem to lie dumb as they swelter in the sun along the silent shore in solemn grandeur thrill with memories of past events connected with the fate of my people, the very dust under your feet responds more lovingly to our footsteps than to yours, because it is the ashes of our ancestors, and our bare feet are conscious of the sympathetic touch, for the soil is rich with the life of our kindred.
We can give thanks for our health and happiness, the support we receive from our families and friends, some wonderful memories and the excitement that each new day brings.
Photographs are precious memories . . . the visual evidence of place and time and relationships . . . ritual talismans for the treasure chest of the heart.