Explore Quotes on Memories

My memories are of denim. I remember being 12 in my Levi's. Wow! As a teenager in Milan, I was really fascinated by Fiorucci, but at the time I was not rich enough to buy. Oh my God! I made a collection of Fiorucci shopping bags, and my mother, she still has them and my stickers, and now I invite Elio Fiorucci to our shows.

The point is this: that the stream of memory may lead you to the river of understanding. And understanding, in turn, may be a tributary to the river of forgiveness.

Christmas is here, Merry old Christmas, Gift-bearing Christmas, Day of grand memories, King of the year!

The memory of my father is wrapped up in white paper, like sandwiches taken for a day of work. Just as a magician takes towers and rabbits out of his hat, he drew love from his small body.

A home is one of the most important assets that most people will ever buy. Homes are also where memories are made and you want to work with someone you can trust.

I think the most enduring lesson I was taught through my experiences of being a Girl Scout was that I was a member of a larger community. I out-grew my uniforms and badges years ago, but the memories of visiting nursing homes or organizing Earth Day tree plantings or my summers camping with girls from all different backgrounds will stay with me always.

The memories for the missed opportunities are stronger than for the ones I managed to get over the line in.

What if we're all like that? Like ghosts ... in someone's mind ... gradually fading ... fading ... until finally ... one day ... we just disappear ... drift into nothingness. Wouldn't that be sad?

I shattered that memory by going back there. Without realizing it until it was too late, I replaced that memory with the emptiness of that day.

Like ultraviolet rays memory shows to each man in the book of life a script that invisibly and prophetically glosses the text.

It has always been on the written page that the world has come into focus for me. If I can piece all these bits of memory together with the diaries and letters and the scribbled thoughts that clutter my mind and bookshelves, then maybe I can explain what happened. Maybe the worlds I have inhabited for the past seven years will assume order and logic and wholeness on paper. Maybe I can tell my story in a way that is useful to someone else.

A liar must have a good memory. -Mendacem oportet esse memorem

A lot of the things I hold onto have memories attached to them. Bags, shoes and jewelry that were given to me from photo shoots and fashion shows throughout my career.

Things don't really impress me. Memories impress me. It's not the toys, it's the people.

Scars are just another kind of memory.

Compared with other recent presidents whose stumbles and failures have assaulted the national self-esteem, memories of Kennedy continue to give the country faith that its better days are ahead. That's been reason enough to discount his limitations and remain enamored of his presidential performance.

There was always laughter in our house. And I have great memories of my dad making an Ulster fry on a Saturday morning. They were legendary even though he couldn't really cook.

The historian does simply not come in to replenish the gaps of memory. He constantly challenges even those memories that have survived intact.

I'm 78. We've lost a lot of our great stars. I can't hang out with those who aren't here. The phone service to Heaven is so bad, you know. But I get to visit with their memories.

If I never went home, what exactly would I be missing? I pictured my cold cavernous house, my friendless town full of bad memories, the utterly unremarkable life that had been mapped out for me. It had never once occurred to me, I realized, to refuse it.

The sea can bind us to her many moods, whispering to us by the subtle token of a shadow or a gleam upon the waves, and hinting in these ways of her mournfulness or rejoicing. Always she is remembering old things, and these memories, though we may not grasp them, are imparted to us, so that we share her gaiety or remorse.