A Quote by Julianna Baggott

Memories are like water. — © Julianna Baggott
Memories are like water.

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I don't know about you, but when they first introduced bottled water, I thought it was so funny, I was like "Bottled water! Haha, they're selling bottled water! ... I guess I'll try it. Ah, this is good, this is more watery than water. Yeah, this has got a water kick to it."
It was like letting go and falling back into water and seeing yourself grinning up through the water, your face like a mask, and seeing the bubbles coming up as if you were trying to speak from under the water. And how do you know what it's like to try to speak from under water when you're drowned?
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.
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.
Those who have no mental vigilance, Though they may hear the teachings, ponder them or meditate, With minds like water seeping from a leaking jug, Their learning will not settle in their memories.
I’m driving,” Louis-Cesare said, sliding into the low seat as easily as if he’d done it a hundred times. “You’re drunk.” I wished. “I had all of two beers, mostly for the water content.” “If you needed water, why didn’t you drink water?” “I don’t like water.
It's like drinking water. You have to have water every day, and music is like water for me.
Life is simply a collection of memories, but memories are like star light... They live on Forever.
Memories, even hard memories, grew soft like peaches as they grow older.
We're like a gardener with a hose and our attention is water - we can water flowers or we can water weeds.
Memories, pressed between the pages of my mind. Memories, sweetened through the ages just like wine.
Dreams are composed of many things, my son. Of images and hopes, of fears and memories. Memories of the past, and memories of the future.
Because computers have memories, we imagine that they must be something like our human memories, but that is simply not true. Computer memories work in a manner alien to human memories. My memory lets me recognize the faces of my friends, whereas my own computer never even recognizes me. My computer's memory stores a million phone numbers with perfect accuracy, but I have to stop and think to recall my own.
My mother once told me I was like water. Water can carve its way even through stone. And when trapped, water makes a new path.
Try squeezing a handful of water, and see how quickly it disappears. But relax and let your hand flow in the same water, and you have the experience of the water as long as you like.
Water does not resist. Water flows. When you plunge your hand into it, all you feel is a caress. Water is not a solid wall, it will not stop you. But water always goes where it wants to go, and nothing in the end can stand against it. Water is patient. Dripping water wears away a stone. Remember that, my child. Remember you are half water. If you can't go through an obstacle, go around it. Water does.
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