Memories Quotes - Page 89

You lose your immortality when you lose your memory.

He smiled the most exquisite smile, veiled by memory, tinged by dreams.

Football became my life at five or six. The earliest memory I have is of playing in my first boots, a pair of black and white Alan Balls. It was 1970, four years after the World Cup, and I scored three goals at school.

If you're alone, I'll be your shadow. If you want to cry, I'll be your shoulder. If you want a hug, I'll be your pillow. If you need to be happy, I'll be your smile. But anytime you need a friend, I'll just be me.

Friendship means understanding, not agreement. It means forgiveness, not forgetting. It means the memories last, even if contact is lost.

When it hurts to look back, and you're afraid to look ahead, you can look beside you and your best friend will be there.

A true friend is someone you can disagree with and still remain friends. For if not, they weren't true friends in the first place.

I really want to come back! I definitely want to come back. Some of my fondest memories are in New Zealand.

Memory is funny. Once you hit a vein the problem is not how to remember but how to control the flow.

What we make of people, and what we see in the mirror when we look at ourselves, depends on what we know of the world, what we believe to be possible, what memories we have, and whether our loyalties are to the past, the present or the future.

My memory bank has overflowed out of control forever. I'm surprised my smile hasn't killed me yet. I have lived an indescribable joyful, adventurous, musical dream life and it just gets better every year.

The very idea of carrying my memory into eternity devastated me, and I took refuge in atheism.

One reason why my memory decays is that I have three cats, all so loving and insistent that they play cat's-cradle with every train of thought. They drove me distracted while I was having influenza, gazing at me with large eyes and saying: O Sylvia, you are so ill, you'll soon be dead. And who will feed us then? Feed us now!

Want a sugar cube?" he asks in his old seductive voice. That's how we met, with Finnick offering me sugar. Surrounded by horses and chariots, costumed and painted for the crowds, before we were allies. Before I had any idea what made him tick. The memory actually coaxes a smile out of me. "Here, it improves the taste," he says in his real voice, plunking three cubes into my cup.

My guess is that fearful events are the hardest to root out. They're the ones we naturally remember the best, after all.

Open-plan offices have been found to reduce productivity and impair memory. They’re associated with high staff turnover. They make people sick, hostile, unmotivated, and insecure.

The shot of Kapil Dev kissing the World Cup and hordes of Indian fans all over at Lord's is etched in my memory. Every Indian is proud of that victory, and every Indian player who has played the World Cup after that '83 win wants to bring the Cup home.

Money is just a symbol we use to facilitate te gathering of memories and experiences.

Perhaps this is in the end what most marriages are - gentleness, memory, and habit.

An animal is not cruel; it lives wholly in the instant leap on its prey, in the present taste of marrow or blood. Cruelty begins with the memory, and the pleasures of the memory are impure; they draw their strength along levels where no sun has reached.

Music at its essence is what gives us memories.

Holding anxiety as your own enemy, and that it has to go down, diminish it, go away and not happen here is a kind of self-invalidating, interiorly focused process that would get you even more entangled with these processes. Instead, what we're going to need to learn to do is to allow your history to bring into the present thoughts and feelings and memories, and to sort of hold them mindfully and self-compassionately, and then focus on what you do and bring them along for that journey.

Whether youre a quarterback and you just threw a pick, or youre a corner and you just got beat for a touchdown, youve got to have a short-term memory, shake it off and play the next play.

It was how wars really ended, Dieffenbaker supposed -- not at truce tables but in cancer wards and office cafeterias and traffic jams. Wars died one tiny piece at a time, each piece something that fell like a memory, each lost like an echo that fades in winding hills. In the end even war ran up the white flag. Or so he hoped. He hoped that in the end even war surrendered.

Passing time adds false memories and modifies real ones.