We forget our pleasures, we remember our sufferings.

What greater thing is there for two human souls than to feel that they are joined – to strengthen each other – to be at one with each other in silent unspeakable memories.

To me the ego is the habitual and compulsive thought processes that go through everybody’s mind continuously. External things like possessions or memories or failures or successes or achievements. Your personal history.

San Francisco is gone. Nothing remains of it but memories.

Living is like tearing through a museum. Not until later do you really start absorbing what you saw, thinking about it, looking it up in a book, and remembering – because you can’t take it in all at once.

My personal telephone book is a book of the dead now. I’m so old. Almost all of my friends have died, and I don’t have the guts to take their names out of the book.

When I was younger we had a grape arbor, and my mom would go out and pick grapes and make grape jam in the sink – boil it, put it in jars, and give it away as gifts.

There are so many memories for me in Manchester. Everywhere I go, I think, ‚I used to have boutiques here, clubs there, restaurants in that area.‘

I remember my mother’s prayers and they have always followed me. They have clung to me all my life.

Never throughout history has a man who lived a life of ease left a name worth remembering.

Waiting is painful. Forgetting is painful. But not knowing which to do is the worse kind of suffering.

Smell is a potent wizard that transports you across thousands of miles and all the years you have lived.

Christmas morning, I’m going to open presents with my kids. I’m going to take pictures of them opening the presents. Then I’m going to come to the Staples Center and get ready to work.

Many a trip continues long after movement in time and space have ceased.

Our moments of inspiration are not lost though we have no particular poem to show for them; for those experiences have left an indelible impression, and we are ever and anon reminded of them.

I remember coming to New York in 1974 to do a play here called ‚Equis.‘ And I remember the first morning getting up and walking around the streets, and I thought, ‚I’m home.‘ I felt really at peace here.

I still close my eyes and go home – I can always draw from that.

Whenever I think of the past, it brings back so many memories.

All of my walls are covered with framed pictures of my friends.

I can only say the first thing that pops into my mind is I remember, years ago, seeing kind of a has-been country singer working – when I first moved to Nashville – in a bar in a Holiday Inn.

It’s a big compliment that so many people want to see me. For them, it’s all about football. That’s what they remember about me.

I never saw any of my dad’s stories. My mother said he had piles and piles of manuscripts.

If you remember me, then I don’t care if everyone else forgets.

Memories are the key not to the past, but to the future.

Whatever the reasons may be, I was very much affected by events of the 1930s – the Spanish Civil War, for example, though I was barely literate.

We will always remember. We will always be proud. We will always be prepared, so we will always be free.

In my dreams I hear again the crash of guns, the rattle of musketry, the strange, mournful mutter of the battlefield.

So long as the memory of certain beloved friends lives in my heart, I shall say that life is good.

My childhood was endless – from eight to 18 felt like hundreds of years.

To me, my house is always recreating what I lost in youth.

A man always remembers his first love with special tenderness, but after that he begins to bunch them.

In the sweetness of friendship let there be laughter, and sharing of pleasures. For in the dew of little things the heart finds its morning and is refreshed.

My parents were divorced by the time I was even conscious – like, I don’t remember them ever being together.

When I was a boy we didn’t wake up with Vietnam and have Cyprus for lunch and the Congo for dinner.

When I was younger, I used to have more flair, I used to do more tricks, the nutmegs, the step-overs.

I remember I used to sleep on my records. In a room with no furniture. I remember I used to sleep in my car.

My relationship with the mountains actually started when I was 16. Every year, a group used to be taken from Auckland Grammar down to the Tangariro National Park for a skiing holiday.

Music was an experience, intimately married to your life. You could pay to hear music, but after you did, it was over, gone – a memory.

My mum passing away wasn’t funny, but that funeral and what I went through, the things that happened, looking back at it, there were funny moments. You have to be strong enough to look back at it, to sit and assess the situation.

In the End, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends.

Your feelings so are important to write down, to capture, and to remember because today you’re heartbroken, but tomorrow you’ll be in love again.

Like all great travellers, I have seen more than I remember, and remember more than I have seen.

When I was 8 years old, it mattered what my favorite singer said and wore and expressed opinions about.

The world forgetting, by the world forgot.

Memories are thoughts that arise. They’re not realities. Only when you believe that they are real, then they have the power over you. But when you realize it’s just another thought arising about the past, then you can have a spacious relationship with that thought. The thought no longer has you in its grip.

I can imagine in years to come that my papers and memorabilia, my journals and letters, will find themselves always in the company of people who care about many of the things I do.

The nice thing is that when people come up to me, it’s the football they remember, not all the other rubbish.

Taxpayers have long memories, especially when it comes to how their hard-earned money is spent.

The things hardest to bear are sweetest to remember.

When they set off for their first day at their new school, I will never forget that winter morning as I watched our girls, just 7 and 10 years old, pile into those black SUVs with all those big men with guns.

Some people seem to fade away but then when they are truly gone, it’s like they didn’t fade away at all.

No one can look back on his schooldays and say with truth that they were altogether unhappy.

In fact, you couldn’t give me anything to make me go back to being a teenager. Never. No, I hated it.

I like to reminisce with people I don’t know.

Akron, Ohio, is my home. It will always be remembered. Akron, Ohio, is my life.

What money is better bestowed than that of a schoolboy’s tip? How the kindness is recalled by the recipient in after days! It blesses him that gives and him that takes.

Christmas is the perfect time to celebrate the love of God and family and to create memories that will last forever. Jesus is God’s perfect, indescribable gift. The amazing thing is that not only are we able to receive this gift, but we are able to share it with others on Christmas and every other day of the year.

I still have my unemployment books and I remember when I worked for the sanitation department and the post office.

And when I was young, my family was perfectly nice. I write a lot about it, as you noticed. But it was rather limited. I think, I don’t think anyone in my family would really feel I’d done them an injustice by saying that. We didn’t see many people. There were many books. It was as if I wanted to get away from home.

In the egoic state, your sense of self, your identity, is derived from your thinking mind – in other words, what your mind tells you about yourself: the storyline of you, the memories, the expectations, all the thoughts that go through your head continuously and the emotions that reflect those thoughts. All those things make up your sense of self.

It’s still scary every time I go back to the past. Each morning, my heart catches. When I get there, I remember how the light was, where the draft was coming from, what odors were in the air. When I write, I get all the weeping out.