Top 1200 Beautiful Memories Quotes & Sayings - Page 2

I'll always have the memories of guys I lost in Vietnam. And I've lost friends since the war, but I'll always have the memories. The riches are great, but riches aren't everything, because when you go you can only take your memories and your word and your honor to the grave with you.

I have memories of films that nobody ever saw, that I was very proud of, and those are still great memories.

Analysis helps patients put their unconscious procedural memories and actions into words and into context, so they can better understand them. In the process they plastically retranscribe these procedural memories, so that they become conscious explicit memories, sometimes for the first time, and patients no longer need to "relive" or "reenact" them, especially if they were traumatic.

Memories, pressed between the pages of my mind. Memories, sweetened through the ages just like wine.

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.

The worst part of holding the memories is not the pain. It's the loneliness of it. Memories need to be shared.

I have a lot of memories, but I don't go into capitalizing on that. Something's got to be my own. I'm not doing the record to sit here and broadcast my memories of my father.

Keep memories of insult on a short leash, and memories of blessing on a long one.

She was beautiful, but not like those girls in the magazines. She was beautiful, for the way she thought. She was beautiful, for the sparkle in her eyes when she talked about something she loved. She was beautiful, for her ability to make other people smile, even if she was sad. No, she wasn't beautiful for something as temporary as her looks. She was beautiful, deep down to her soul. She is beautiful.

What will your children remember? We can change the world inside our own houses. Take the gift of this moment and make something beautiful of it. Few worthwhile experiences just happen; memories are made on purpose.

Quite the ugliest face I ever saw was that of a woman whom the world called beautiful. Through its silver veil the evil and ungentle passions looked out, hideous and hateful. On the other hand, there are faces which the multitude, at first glance, pronounce homely, unattractive and such as "Nature fashions by the gross," which I always recognize with a warm heart-thrill. Not for the world would I have one feature changed; they please me as they are; they are hallowed by kind memories, and are beautiful through their associations.

To have memories of those you have loved and lost is perhaps harder than to have no memories.

Memories are the height of poetry only when they are memories of happiness. When they graze wounds over which scars have formed they become an aching pain.

Love is a really scary thing and you never know what's going to happen. It's one of the most beautiful things in life, but it's one of the most terrifying. It's worth the fear because you have more knowledge, experience, you learn from people, and you have memories.

One of the most wonderful memories in my life was when I sang at the Opera House in Sydney. I will never forget that. It is one of the most beautiful Houses I have ever sung in my life.

Beautiful rocks - beautiful grass Beautiful soil where they both combine Beautiful river - covering sky Never thought of possession, but all this was mine.

We are the sum total of our memories. Memories are the most precious things we have. Good or bad. That's what make us who we are. What would we be without them?

It is, I suppose, the business of grandparents to create memories and the relative of memories: traditions. We want to lodge moments, like snapshots, in the fleeting video of time.

I have very fond memories of my childhood in Afghanistan, largely because my memories, unlike those of the current generation of Afghans, are untainted by the spectre of war, landmines, and famine.

Many books owe their success to the good memories of their authors and the bad memories of their readers.

His entired life bundled into wenty refuse sacks. His and her memories bundle away in Holly's mind. Each item unearthed dust, tears, laughter and memories. She bagged the items, cleared the dust, wiped her eyes and filed away the memories.

'Dark Side of the Moon' was one of my father's favorite records, which I obviously didn't understand when I was young. To be honest, I don't really have too many memories of hearing it, but I definitely have memories of the cover.

I try to keep the happy memories. If that's what you call selective memories, I'm good with that.

But as the cerebellum degrades with age, so does the quality of memories. The memories are there, but they're not as good.

All bad memories erased! Now you can make new ones-good memories.

We are our memories," Dodge said. "That's all we are. That's what makes us the person we are. The sum of all our memories from the day we were born. If you took a person and replaced his set of memories with another set, he'd be a different person. He'd think, act, and feel things differently.

We can't reliably distinguish true memories from false memories.

Memories, even hard memories, grew soft like peaches as they grow older.

What I have got from my childhood aren't toys, but memories. And happy memories are better than any toy.

I've said it before, but I'll say it again because you can't say it enough: Your skin is beautiful - dark, light, in the middle, whatever. Brown is beautiful. Your hair is beautiful. If you wear a weave, it's beautiful. If you choose to be natural, that's beautiful. Also, you are enough.

I was really interested in this ability for others to create virtual memories for us. In "The Cartographers" I explore this through Adam Woods, and the company he works for, which produces virtual memories that people can beam into their consciousness. While the technology is sci-fi, the story is also a metaphor for the way love relationships create memories in our minds.

Memories are who we are. In the end, that's all the luggage you take with you. Love and Memories are what last.

Other than motherhood, the eight years that I spent at the University of Wisconsin, Madison, I have incredibly fond memories of. It's a beautiful place, with four seasons up in Wisconsin. And really wonderful people.

I have a lot of bitter memories from Beijing. Hopefully, we can erase those memories and bring the gold back to Japan.

I always remember my childhood house with happy memories. There was a beautiful garden, and outside my bedroom window was a jasmine vine which would open in the evenings, giving off a divine scent.

When you get older, it feels like happy memories and sad memories are pretty much the same thing. It is all just emotion in the end. And any of it can make you weep.

Memories did one no good, not when one knew the truth in the present. Will was beautiful, but he was not hers; he was anybody's. Something in him was broken, and trough that break spilled a blind cruelty, a need to hurt and to push away.

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.

I think that each women, whatever age, needs to recognise something good in her body. Someone has beautiful legs, someone has beautiful hair, someone else has beautiful décolletage or a beautiful waist or beautiful hands. Everyone has something great.

Some memories come with a very compelling sense of truth about them. And that happens to be the case even with memories that are not true.

I have some memories of certain things that happened in high school when I was stoned out of my mind, but I talked with other people about them, and I trusted the aggregated memories.

That's the trouble with living things. Don't last very long. Kittens one day, old cats the next. And then just memories. And the memories fade and blend and smudge together.

It's like I'm stuck in a time bubble. Memories keep coming back, and of course, memories are a huge part of literature and cinema, from "Stand by Me" to "Blade Runner."

I have the most evil memories of Spain, but I have very few bad memories of Spaniards.

I believe that without memories there is no life, and that our memories should be of happy times.

Painful memories are gone! Together, we can build up good memories.

Music, at its essence, is what gives us memories. And the longer a song has existed in our lives, the more memories we have of it.

When it comes to memories of that iconic type, memories that are burned into you, I have maybe ten or so from my childhood. I'm a bad rememberer of situations. I forget almost everything as soon as it happens.

I was never made to feel that fashion was frivolous and any old dress would do. Fashion was serious stuff in my house and in my life. In fact, most memories I have growing up involve beautiful dresses.

The memories obviously of playing with Maradona are fantastic memories, he's probably the most important part of my career.

When you listen to old-school music, you can smell your mother's food in the kitchen. You can feel where you was when you first heard that song. That's what's beautiful about music. It's for everyone, but we all have individual memories that make us love it.

One of my earliest memories was me singing 'Oh, What A Beautiful Mornin' at the top of my voice when I was seven. I got totally carried away. My grandmother, Sarah, was in the next room. I didn't even realise she was there. I was terribly embarrassed.

If we knew a person was going to die, we'd hold harder to the memories." Fire corrected him, in a whisper. "The good memories.

Why do we capital-N Nerds love Mars so much? Because it's beautiful, it's tough, it's buried in our mythic, childhood memories. It's covered with human triumphs but also with sad stories of failure.

Ideas come from ordinary, everyday life. And from imagination. And from feelings. And from memories. Memories of dust in my sneakers and humming whitewalls down a hill called Monkey.

Under the summer roses When the flagrant crimson Lurks in the dusk Of the wild red leaves, Love, with little hands, Comes and touches you With a thousand memories, And asks you Beautiful, unanswerable questions.

Life is simply a collection of memories, but memories are like star light... They live on Forever.

Love is a really scary thing, and you never know what's going to happen. It's one of the most beautiful things in life, but it's one of the most terrifying. It's worth the fear because you have more knowledge, experience, you learn from people, and you have memories.

In my life I find that memories of the spirit linger and sweeten long after memories of the brain have faded.

I think that each woman, whatever age, needs to recognize something good in her body. Someone has beautiful legs, someone has beautiful hair, someone else has beautiful decolletage or a beautiful waist or beautiful hands. Everyone has something great.