I'm so absolutely pro-Denver. I wrote a fake hip-hop song about Denver. I've been claiming Denver. Part of the joke of the song is nobody was really claiming Denver - no rappers, no comedians.
I have a lot of bitter memories from Beijing. Hopefully, we can erase those memories and bring the gold back to Japan.
I'm very attached to Denver. I really love this city. Denver will always be special.
Hardships are quickly forgotten. Intense heat, bitter cold, rain and snow, fatigue,and luckless hunting fade quickly into memories of great fellowship, thoughts of beautiful country, pleasant camps, and happy campfires.
I'm tired of thinking about playoffs, playoffs, six, seven, eighth spot. I want to think about championship. That's something that we always thought when I came to Denver. That's what I felt as soon as I came to Denver coming from New York where we were not winning.
Your bitter memories still have time to turn into sweet ones.
I think the isolation in China also has to do with people's memories being wiped out, collective memories as well as individual memories, by the fact that the recent history has been constantly rewritten and revised.
We often talk about people with great memories as though it were some sort of an innate gift, but that is not the case. Great memories are learned. At the most basic level, we remember when we pay attention. We remember when we are deeply engaged.
I have memories of films that nobody ever saw, that I was very proud of, and those are still great memories.
Men seek to be great; they would have offices, wealth, power, and fame. They think that to be great is to possess one side of nature,--the sweet, without the other side,--the bitter.
Indianapolis versus Denver would not be a great one gastronomically.
I have memories of watching the Champions League as a kid in France. We all supported different teams and they were intense moments. Great memories.
Maybe forgiveness is just the continual pushing aside of bitter memories, until time dulls the hurt and anger, and the wrong is forgotten.
You have your wonderful memories," people said later, as if memories were solace. Memories are not. Memories are by definition of times past, things gone. Memories are the Westlake uniforms in the closet, the faded and cracked photographs, the invitations to the weddings of the people who are no longer married, the mass cards from the funerals of the people whose faces you no longer remember. Memories are what you no longer want to remember.
Denver is home to me, and to be recognized for my achievements in the sports community here is a great honor.
I want to live with all of my memories, even if they’re sad memories. I believe that if I stay strong, someday I’ll overcome the pain, and then I’ll be glad that I have those memories. I believe that there are no memories that are okay to forget.