Memory... is the diary that we all carry about with us.
As long as there are memories, yesterday remains. As long as there is hope, tomorrow awaits. As long as there is friendship, today is beautiful.
Nothing is a waste that makes a memory.
Memories have huge staying power, but like dreams, they thrive in the dark, surviving for decades in the deep waters of our minds like shipwrecks on the sea bed.
Memory is not frozen, it's very much alive, it moves, it changes.
Memory is sweet. Even when it’s painful, memory is sweet.
Memory and forgetfulness are as life and death to one another. To live is to remember and to remember is to live. To die is to forget and to forget is to die.
No day shall erase you from the memory of time
We do not remember days, we remember moments.
Sometimes you will never know the value of something,until it becomes a memory.
Time and space may separate us, but not the thoughts and memories that bind us.
Even though our lives wander, our memories remain in one place.
We all have our time machines. Some take us back, they're called memories. Some take us forward, they're called dreams.
Life isn't a matter of milestones, but of moments.
Before you know it it's 3 am and you're 80 years old and you can't remember what it was like to have 20 year old thoughts or a 10 year old heart.
The best things in life come in threes, like friends, dreams, and memories.
Take care of all your memories. For you cannot relive them.
Friends are the most important part of your life. Treasure the tears, treasure the laughter, but most importantly, treasure the memories.
Happiness isn't something you experience; it's something you remember.
Memories warm you up from the inside. But they also tear you apart.
It happens to everyone as they grow up. You find out who you are and what you want, and then you realize that people you've known forever don't see things the way you do. So you keep the wonderful memories, but find yourself moving on.
In the End, we will remember not the words of our enemies but the silence of our friends.
No sadness is greater than in misery to rehearse memories of joy.
Memory belongs to the imagination. Human memory is not like a computer which records things; it is part of the imaginative process, on the same terms as invention.
The butterfly counts not months but moments, and has time enough.
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