...when I was a kid, Toronto streets were deserted and quiet on Sundays, except for the sound of church bells I stood on the sidewalk one December listening to the Christmas bells - I've never forgotten that moment...
John GeddesTag: memories december toronto childhood-memories christmas-bells church-bells deserted-streets
...strands of your hair and tendrils of the wind spin into nothingness the memories of that day...
John GeddesTag: love wind memories hair nothingness poetry-quotes tendrils
...we went to watch the waves that bitter day and the wind took your red cap and mittens - blew them into the sea...
John GeddesTag: poetry sea wind memories red bitter-day mittens
...I recall that day on the beach - the sand so brilliant, the clouds so massive, and the wind punishing your hair...
John GeddesTag: love wind memories hair beach clouds poetry-quotes
Sit and quiet yourself. Luxuriate in a certain memory and the details will come. Let the images flow. You'll be amazed at what will come out on paper. I'm still learning what it is about the past that I want to write. I don't worry about it. It will emerge. It will insist on being told.
Frank McCourtTag: past writing write memory quiet memories paper images luxuriate
Depression is a red herring," said Nariman. "I think a lot about the past, it's true. But at my age, the past is more present than the here and now. and there is not much percentage in the future.
Rohinton MistryTag: philosophical memories aging
But it was smell that carried memory.
Ann BrasharesTag: memories remembering
In visions of the night, like dropping rain,
Descend the many memories of pain
Having contact sheets for all sorts of episodes in your life seemed to me intriguing and desirable. So much of my own history is beclouded by time, but a few sharp rays, in the form of pictures, falling upon a given day would resuscitate whole contexts. And from this archipelago of moments, scenes, episodes, you could see the larger tectonic movements of your life forming and unforming. You would be reminded of who you are. Or at least of who you were.
Thomas BellerTag: life memories personal-history photos context reminders
How can days and happenings and moments so good become so quickly ugly, and for no reason, for no real reason? Just—change. With nothing causing it.
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