A Quote by Susanna Kearsley

Tis never the place, but the people one shares it with who are the cause of our happiest memories. — © Susanna Kearsley
Tis never the place, but the people one shares it with who are the cause of our happiest memories.
My happiest memories have no place in the past; they are those I have yet to create.
Tis a common observation here that our cause is the cause of all mankind, and that we are fighting for their liberty in defending our own.
We comfort ourselves by reliving memories of protection. Something closed must retain our memories, while leaving them their original value as images. Memories of the outside world will never have the same tonality as those of home and, by recalling these memories, we add to our store of dreams; we are never real historians, but always near poets, and our emotion is perhaps nothing but an expression of a poetry that was lost.
In the happiest of our childhood memories, our parents were happy, too.
There are certain days that are forever locked in our memories. They represent special times, places, and people that we capture in the scrapbook of our minds. Just a fleeting thought of these memories can bring us back to that special time and place as well as the emotion we felt when we were there.
Tis the gift to be gentle, ’tis the gift to be fair, ’Tis the gift to wake and breathe the morning air, To walk every day in the path that we choose, Is the gift that we pray we will never never lose.
It's funny how, as we get older, what become our fondest memories are not necessarily the happiest times of our lives but the times of our lives that shaped us the most.
Tis light translateth night; 'tis inspiration Expounds experience; 'tis the west explains The east; 'tis time unfolds Eternity.
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.
Christ has something in common with all creatures. With the stone he shares existence, with the plants he shares life, with the animals he shares sensation, and with the angels he shares intelligence. Thus all things are transformed in Christ since in the fullness of his nature he embraces some part of every creature.
It is the sun that shares our works. The moon shares nothing. It is a sea.
Devices that allow people to shoot up to 100 rounds of ammunition at one time have no place in our schools, no place in our parks, no place on our streets, no place in our communities, and no place in this country.
As Christians we are not out for our own cause at all, we are out for the cause of God, which can never be our cause. We do not know what God is after, but we have to maintain our relationship with Him whatever happens.
'Tis never for their wisdom that one loves the wisest, or for their wit that one loves the wittiest; 'tis for benevolence, and virtue, and honest fondness, one loves people...
The happiest people seem to be those who have no particular cause for being happy except that they are so.
To me, that's where memories are very interesting because what happens when we start losing memories? What happens when you can't take your memories with you? Who are we without our memories, without our past?
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