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Quotes About Childhood Memories

Quotes tagged as "childhood-memories" (showing 1-30 of 46)
Jennifer E. Smith
“Childhood memories were like airplane luggage; no matter how far you were traveling or how long you needed them to last, you were only ever allowed two bags. And while those bags might hold a few hazy recollections—a diner with a jukebox at the table, being pushed on a swing set, the way it felt to be picked up and spun around—it didn’t seem enough to last a whole lifetime.”
Jennifer E. Smith, This is What Happy Looks Like

“Anyone who has no need of anybody but himself is either a beast or a God."
Aristotle”
Bruce Wayne Sullivan

Gillian Flynn
“My dad had limitations. That's what my good-hearted mom always told us. He had limitations, but he meant no harm. It was kind of her to say, but he did do harm.”
Gillian Flynn, Gone Girl

Julian Barnes
“Memories of childhood were the dreams that stayed with you after you woke.”
Julian Barnes, England, England

“That night I looked up at those same stars, but I didn't want any of those things. I didn't want Egypt, or France, or far-flung destinations. I just wanted to go back to my life from my childhood, just to visit it, and touch it, and to convince myself that yes, it had been real.”
Jenny Lawson, Let's Pretend This Never Happened: A Mostly True Memoir

Fred Rogers
“Music is the one art we all have inside. We may not be able to play an instrument, but we can sing along or clap or tap our feet. Have you ever seen a baby bouncing up and down in the crib in time to some music? When you think of it, some of that baby's first messages from his or her parents may have been lullabies, or at least the music of their speaking voices. All of us have had the experience of hearing a tune from childhood and having that melody evoke a memory or a feeling. The music we hear early on tends to stay with us all our lives.”
Fred Rogers, The World According to Mister Rogers: Important Things to Remember

Gillian Flynn
“...my father, [was] a mid-level phonecompany manager who treated my mother at best like an incompetent employee. At worst? He never beat her, but his pure, inarticulate fury would fill the house for days, weeks, at a time, making the air humid, hard to breathe, my father stalking around with his lower jaw jutting out, giving him the look of a wounded, vengeful boxer, grinding his teeth so loud you could hear it across the room ... I'm sure he told himself: 'I never hit her'. I'm sure because of this technicality he never saw himself as an abuser. But he turned our family life into an endless road trip with bad directions and a rage-clenched driver, a vacation that never got a chance to be fun.”
Gillian Flynn, Gone Girl

Sarah Addison Allen
“Don't you wish you could take a single childhood memory and blow it up into a bubble and live inside it forever?”
Sarah Addison Allen, Lost Lake

Jenny Han
“Aching familiar in a way that made me wish I was still eight. Eight was before death or divorce or heartbreak. Eight was just eight. Hot dogs and peanut butter, mosquito bites and splinters, bikes and boogie boards. Tangled hair, sunburned shoulders, Judy Blume, in bed by nine thirty.”
Jenny Han, It's Not Summer Without You

“...some nights I'd sneak out and listen to the radio in my Dad's old Chevy - children need solitude - they don't teach that in school...”
John Geddes, A Familiar Rain

Meša Selimović
“Gdje su zlatne ptice ljudskih snova, preko kojih se to bezbrojnih mora i vrletnih planina do njih dolazi? Da li nam se ta duboka čežnja djetinje nerazumnosti posigurno javlja samo kao tužni znak izvezen na mahramama i na safijanskim koricama nepotrebnih knjiga?”
Meša Selimović, Death and the Dervish

Gillian Flynn
“I think maybe, when I was very young, I witnessed a chaste cheek kiss between the two when it was impossible to avoid. Christmas, birthdays. Dry lips. On their best married days, their communications were entirely transactional: 'We're out of milk again.' (I'll get some today.) 'I need this ironed properly.' (I'll do that today.) 'How hard is it to buy milk?' (Silence.) 'You forgot to call the plumber.' (Sigh.) 'Goddammit, put on your coat, right now, and go out and get some goddamn milk. Now.' These messages and orders brought to you by my father, a mid-level phonecompany manager who treated my mother at best like an incompetent employee.”
Gillian Flynn, Gone Girl

D.K. LeVick
“By the time we began to understand enough about what the world to ask the right questions, our visit is over, and someone else is visiting, asking the same questions.”
D.K. LeVick, Bridges: A Tale of Niagra

Gillian Flynn
“They thought more before nine a.m. than most people thought all month. I remember once declining cherry pie at dinner, and Rand cocked his head and said, 'Ahh! Iconoclast. Disdains the easy, symbolic patriotism.' And when I tried to laugh it off and said, well, I didn't like cherry cobbler either, Marybeth touched Rand's arm: 'Because of the divorce. All those comfort foods, the desserts a family eats together, those are just bad memories for Nick.'
It was silly but incredibly sweet, these people spending so much energy trying to figure me out. The answer: I don't like cherries.”
Gillian Flynn, Gone Girl

Eve Berlin
“That made her pause, almost made her want to laugh. She pushed her hair from her face. "God, we're fucked up, aren't we?"
His tight features loosened a little. "Yeah, I've been trying to get over it most of my life. I guess I'd had myself talked into thinking I had."
"Me, too. I'm sorry," she told him, her shoulders relaxing. "I didn't need to get so pissed off."
He cracked a grin, "You did, though, didn't you? I kind of liked seeing you like that. All that fire.”
Eve Berlin, Temptation's Edge

Laurie Lee
“Bees blew like cake-crumbs through the golden air, white butterflies like sugared wafers, and when it wasn't raining a diamond dust took over which veiled and yet magnified all things”
Laurie Lee, Cider With Rosie

James Weldon Johnson
“In the life of everyone there is a limited number of experiences which are not written upon the memory, but stamped there with a die; and in the long years after, they can be called up in detail, and every emotion that was stirred by them can be lived through anew; these are the tragedies of life.”
James Weldon Johnson, The Autobiography of an Ex-Colored Man

Erik Tomblin
“The morning heat had already soaked through the walls, rising up from the floor like a ghost of summers past.”
Erik Tomblin, Riverside Blues

Earl B. Russell
“When Uncle W. G. held out his hand to take my money, I dropped the dead mouse in his hand.”
Earl B. Russell, Cold Turkey at Nine: The Memoir of a Problem Child

Martha Bibescu
“Jocul, ispravit mereu printr-o cazatura, nu era decat o poveste care anunta viitorul. Asa cum sunt toate jocurile copilariei: marionetele ne arata cat de scurta si de tulburata ne e viata, de-a v-ati ascunselea ne invata cum se cauta emotiile, Inelus-invartecus, cat ai de alergat ca sa-ti indeplinesti dorintele, iar de-a baba oarba, dragostea oarba si dibuitul.”
Martha Bibescu, Catherine-Paris

“Never stop screaming, playing and laughing, it's part of our childhood wich will always be with us.”
Romina Noriega

Karl Philipp Moritz
“Wenn oft der Himmel umwölkt und der Horizont kleiner war, fühlte er eine Art von Bangigkeit, daß die ganze Welt wiederum mit ebenso einer Decke umschlossen sei wie die Stube, worin er wohnte, und wenn er dann mit seinen Gedanken über diese gewölbte Decke hinausging, so kam ihm diese Welt an sich viel zu klein vor, und es deuchte ihm, als müsse sie wiederum in einer andern eingeschlossen sein, und das immer so fort.”
Karl Philipp Moritz, Anton Reiser

“Why is it...that the good things that pop up almost always get clobbered by these miserable darn things that seem to choke out everything like stinkweed?”
A. E. Hotchner

David Handler
“This whole, crazy fucking business can be reduced to one little word, one word explains it all. I'm going to give you the benefit of my experience and share that word with you, buck. It's revenge.... Them studio execs, agents, producers, they're all sweaty, unpopular, bitter little fucks, and now it's their turn. They get to make all of us golden boys and girls jump through hoops. They decide who's popular and who isn't, who's pretty and who isn't, who gets their phone calls returned and who doesn't. They make us grovel, submit, suck up to them. They're getting back at us, man. It means more to them than the money, the fame, the glamor, having power over guys like me.... It's what they live for.”
David Handler, The Boy Who Never Grew Up

Marilynne Robinson
“They left a trail of hopscotch behind them, Mellie always thinking of ways to make it harder. They'd be jumping along in the dust, barefoot, with licorice drops in their mouths, feeling as though they had run off with everything in that town that was worth having.”
Marilynne Robinson, Lila

Jarod Kintz
“The scent of your asshole smells like childhood memories. I mean it would, if I grew up in New Jersey.”
Jarod Kintz, This Book is Not for Sale

Earl B. Russell
“I walked through the house to the back porch and found the screen door covered top to bottom, side to side, with cats meowing for food. . . . They were so thick on the door I could barely see the light between them.”
Earl B. Russell, Cold Turkey at Nine: The Memoir of a Problem Child

Frances Mayes
“Sometimes you have to travel back in time, skirting the obstacles, in order to love someone.”
Frances Mayes, Under Magnolia: A Southern Memoir

Frances Mayes
“First memory: a man at the back door is saying, I have real bad news, sweat is dripping off his face, Garbert's been shot, noise from my mother, I run to her room behind her, I'm jumping on the canopied bed while she cries, she's pulling out drawers looking for a handkerchief, Now, he's all right, the man say, they think, patting her shoulder, I'm jumping higher, I'm not allowed, they think he saved old man Mayes, the bed slats dislodge and the mattress collapses. My mother lunges for me.

Many traveled to Reidsville for the event, but my family did not witness Willis Barnes's electrocution, From kindergarten through high school, Donette, the murderer's daughter, was in my class. We played together at recess. Sometimes she'd spit on me.”
Frances Mayes, Under Magnolia: A Southern Memoir

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