Childhood Memories Quotes

Quotes tagged as "childhood-memories" (showing 1-30 of 80)
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

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

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

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

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

“...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

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 Niagara

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

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

Lauren Bacall
“Childhood anxieties, childhood fears, never disappear entirely. They fade, but not away.”
Lauren Bacall, By Myself and Then Some

“The most difficult journey any of us ever take in our adulthood is the return to our parents’ house. A home visit makes us recall all of the childhood events that formed us. Returning home reacquaints us with family members and our former self.”
Kilroy J. Oldster, Dead Toad Scrolls

R.B. O'Brien
“Snow is...a beautiful reminder of life and all its quirks. It makes me pause. Think. Stay still. Even my mind takes the hint. It makes me feel giddy. Like a kid. I bring my hot cocoa to the window and simply sit and reminisce...It brings me back to days of school cancellations and snow igloos and King of the Mountain games in my childhood neighborhood...That for this one moment in time, I’m not an adult with all the headaches that can accompany that responsibility, but instead, I’m still the girl in pigtails with the handmade hat and mittens, just waiting to build her next snowman.”
R.B. O'Brien

H.S. Crow
“Moonless nights haunt me. They evoke my once carefree life when I dreamed without doubt to what my future could be. I yearn for a time when my mother’s tree swayed beneath the dusk like an amber sea, but the past is locked without a key. Never to return—only flee.”
H.S. Crow

Floyd C. Forsberg
“Eventually, however, the denial turned into emptiness and my childhood ended.”
Floyd C. Forsberg, The Toughest Prison of All

“Either I can go back to my childhood or my childhood can come forth to me. This is what I'm desperately wishes...”
Hira Shahid Kazim

Sarah Jio
“But it wasn't their separation that was consuming my mind just then; it was Evelyn's garden. Bee had taken us there when we were children, and it was all rushing back: a magical world of hydrangeas, roses, and dahlias, and lemon shortbread cookies on Evelyn's patio. It seemed like only yesterday that my sister and I sat on the little bench under the trellis while Bee hovered over her easel, capturing on her canvas whatever flower was in bloom in the lush beds. "Your garden," I said, "I remember your garden."
"Yes," Evelyn said, smiling.
I nodded, a little astonished that this memory, buried so deep in my mind, had risen to the surface just then like a lost file from my subconscious. It was as if the island had unlocked it somehow.”
Sarah Jio, The Violets of March

Kiana Davenport
“Does childhood really happen? Do we imagine it? Everyone remembers something else....”
Kiana Davenport, Shark Dialogues

Lorna Sage
“It's said (truly) that most women forget the pain of childbirth; I think that we all forget the pain of being a child at school for the first time, the sheer ineptitude, as though you'll never learn to mark out your own space. It's double shaming - shaming to REMEMBER as well, to fee so sorry for your scabby little self back there in small people's purgatory.”
Lorna Sage, Bad Blood

Phil Volatile
“It’s sad
that burnt marshmallows
make me think of
when they
should bring
back childhood
memories of
Phil Volatile, Crushed Black Velvet

“A lifetime of memories does not provide empirical proof of the value of living. No one memory has a quantifiable value to anyone expect the holder of the memory. Parenting in large part consists of creating positive memories for children. An accumulation of a lifetime of memories does create a musical score that we can assess from an artistic if not scientific perspective. Each happy memory generates a beat of minor joy that when strung together form the musical notes demarking a person’s prosodic inner tune.”
Kilroy J. Oldster, Dead Toad Scrolls

“-Bugünkü ödevimiz. Hayvanları niye severiz? Niye severiz anne?
Onlar yaşamamıza katılırlar, sesleri, sonra nasıl anlatayım...
Ben söyleyeyim canım, inekler süt verir, koyunlar et verir, kapımızı bekler köpekler, ya kediler; kedileri sevmek gerekmez insanlar kapanı icat ettiler...
Ama ben kardam adamı da seviyorum anne, onun faydası ne ki?- Anne, kız, Özgürlük Atları”
Füruzan, Parasız Yatılı

Sasha Martin
“There are mysteries buried in the recesses of every kitchen – every crumb kicked under the floorboard is a hidden memory. But some kitchens ae made of more. Some kitchens are everything.”
Sasha Martin, Life from Scratch: A Memoir of Food, Family, and Forgiveness

H.S. Crow
“Moonless nights haunt me. They evoke remembrances of a carefree life when I dreamed without doubt to what my future could be. I yearn for a time when my mother’s tree swayed beneath the dusk like an amber sea, but the past is locked without a key. Never to return—only flee”
H.S. Crow

Kate Morton
“Alice stopped walking as a dragonfly hovered close. 'Yellow-winged darter.' The name came to mind of its own accord. She watched as the insect flickered towards a nearby garden bed, a spectacular tangle of summer flowers, red, mauve, and brilliant orange. Gardens really were a balm. A bee vacillated between blooms and Alice experienced a sudden flash of all-body memory. They came often lately. She could 'feel' what it would be like to creep into that garden, her body lithe and ache-free, to snake beneath the cool foliage and lie on her back so that the sky broke into bright blue diamonds through the branches and her ears were filled with the choir of insect life.”
Kate Morton, The Lake House

Ana Claudia Antunes
“People ask me where I got my x-ray powers. I inherited them from my parents in parental supervision. Erase the dots and your doubts if you think that I was 'raysed' alone.”
Ana Claudia Antunes, The Tao of Physical and Spiritual

“Some people smoked when they were upset, some did yoga, or drank, or paced, or picked fights, or counted to one hundred. Georgia cooked.
As a small girl growing up in Massachusetts, she'd spent most of her time in her grandmother's kitchen, watching wide-eyed as Grammy kneaded the dough for her famous pumpernickel bread, sliced up parsnips and turnips for her world-class pot roast, or, if she was feeling exotic, butterflied shrimp for her delicious Thai basil seafood. A big-boned woman of solid peasant stock, as she herself used to say, Grammy moved around the cramped kitchen with grace and efficiency, her curly gray hair twisted into a low bun. Humming pop songs from the forties, her cheeks a pleasing pink, she turned out dish after fabulous dish from the cranky Tappan stove she refused to replace. Those times with Grammy were the happiest Georgia could remember. It had been almost a year since she died, and not a day passed that Georgia didn't miss her.
She pulled out half a dozen eggs, sliced supermarket Swiss and some bacon from the double-width Sub-Zero. A quick scan of the spice rack yielded a lifetime supply of Old Bay seasoning, three different kinds of peppercorns, and 'sel de mer' from France's Brittany coast. People's pantries were as perplexing as their lives.”
Jenny Nelson, Georgia's Kitchen

“Étrangement, de sa brigade de combat, "l'Éclair", il ne gardait qu'un vague souvenir, comme d'ailleurs de la plupart de ce que nous avons vécu durant cette époque hors norme de la révolution culturelle.”
Li Kunwu, Le temps du père

Jeffrey Stepakoff
“Notwithstanding the pressure in the room, this was always an emotional moment for Grace Lyndon, when someone was experiencing a scent she had created. When Grace was a little girl, her mother became very sick and lost her ability to hold down food, and in her final days lost her sight. But her sense of smell remained, strong as ever, and young Grace would bring to her mother's bedside fresh cut flowers, lilac and iris and tea rose, the sweet scents infusing the room with light and earth and memories long forgotten, and Grace brought in special foods to smell, like warm orange-ginger rolls, glazed and fragrant as winter holiday mornings, and cotton linens, laundered in lavender water and line-dried so you could smell the sun in them, and slices of ripe apples, a scent so perfect that in the end, it made her mother cry bittersweetly.”
Jeffrey Stepakoff, The Orchard

Erica Bauermeister
“Her grandmother's cooking area was small- a tiny sink, no dishwasher, a bit of a counter- but out of it came tortellini filled with meat and nutmeg and covered in butter and sage, soft pillows of gnocchi, roasted chickens that sent the smell of lemon and rosemary slipping through the back roads of the small town, bread that gave a visiting grandchild a reason to unto the kitchen on cold mornings and nestle next to the fireplace, a hunk of warm, newly baked breakfast in each hand.”
Erica Bauermeister, The School of Essential Ingredients

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