Reminiscing Quotes

Quotes tagged as "reminiscing" Showing 1-30 of 73
Jetta Carleton
“Suddenly it seemed to me that I looked back from a great distance on that smile and saw it all again - the smile and the day, the whole sunny, sad, funny, wonderful day and all the days that we had spent here together. What was I going to do when such days came no more? There could not be many; for we were a family growing old. And how would I learn to live without these people? I who needed them so little that I could stay away all year - what should I do without them?”
Jetta Carleton, The Moonflower Vine

“What can ever equal the memory of being young together?”
Michael Stein, In the Age of Love

Criss Jami
“Growing up, I always had a soldier mentality. As a kid I wanted to be a soldier, a fighter pilot, a covert agent, professions that require a great deal of bravery and risk and putting oneself in grave danger in order to complete the mission. Even though I did not become all those things, and unless my predisposition, in its youngest years, already had me leaning towards them, the interest that was there still shaped my philosophies. To this day I honor risk and sacrifice for the good of others - my views on life and love are heavily influenced by this.”
Criss Jami, Healology

“How often had she wondered what would have happened if she'd remained with Jonathan? Not often, but regularly over the years. It was impossible not to have imagined that rejected future, a life of many countries, of vast and enduring adventure, of tiny rooms and rental houses. It was the sense of missed opportunity that returned to her, frightening but real, overwhelmingly real.”
Michael Stein, In the Age of Love

Mindi Scott
“As I grabbed my cocoa, chocolate ran down my hand.
"This makes me feel like a five-year-old," I said, licking it off.
"If I ordered a sandwich at this place, do you think they'd cut the crusts off?”
Mindi Scott, Freefall

“Today, it felt like time should be measured by how much of the future she had left, and needed to be counted forward. She felt proud listening, as if somehow Jonathan Parish's speech reflected on her, as if she could take credit for some part of it, for him.”
Michael Stein

Stewart Stafford
“The most overcrowded vessel is the one that sails on the golden sea of memories.”
Stewart Stafford

Nat Chelloni
“Always trust your gut feeling. It never lies.”
Nat Chelloni, A Favor For a Favor

“I used to think one day we'd tell the story of us ; How we met, and the sparks flew instantly. People would say have said they're the lucky ones. I used to know my place was a spot next to you and then it went to me searching the room for an empty seat
'Cause lately I don't even know what page you're on
Oh, a simple complication, Miscommunications lead to fall out. So many things that I wish you knew oh and So many walls up, I can't break through
Now I'm back again on this website after five years
And I'm dying to know does it still hurt you like it hurts me?
I don't know what to say since a twist of fate, when it all broke down and the story of us looks a lot like a tragedy now
How'd we end up this way? With both of us deleting our accounts and going our separate ways
So, today I'm telling the story of us of how I was losing my mind when I saw you had deleted the account and gone away without a goodbye and no I miss yous leaving me with just your quotes on Goodreads
How you held your pride like you should've held me
Why did we pretend this is nothing?
I'd tell you I miss you, but I don't know how
I never heard silence quite this loud
Now I'm standing alone in a crowded room in a UK library reminiscing about the days when I was 15 and you were a 16 California boy; how we fell for each and how we fought both too immature to realize what we were setting up in flames
How I still recall your replies and my singing heart and shining eyes. Didn't tell you back then and now I'm saying I liked it better when you were on my side
So many things that you wish I knew ; So many that I wish I had told you
But the story of us has broken, burned and ended
Now I'm standing alone in a crowded room
And we're not speaking : And I'm dying to know
Is it killing you like it's killing me?
But I don't know what to say
Since a twist of fate, when it all broke down
And the story of us looks a lot like a tragedy now.”
Hearts Can Break and Never Make a Sound

Sarah Winman
“The air fizzed. I remember telling this to Annie once, and Ellis couldn’t remember a bloody thing. He’s so disappointing at times. Couldn’t remember the fishing boats, or Francoise Hardy, or how warm the evening was, and how the air fizzed -
Fizzed? he said.
Yes, I said. Fizzed with possibly or maybe excitement. I said to him that just because you can’t remember doesn’t mean the past isn’t out there. All those precious moments are still there somewhere.
I think he’s embarrassed by the word precious, said Annie.
Maybe, I said, looking at him.”
Sarah Winman, Tin Man

Jayita Bhattacharjee
“Its the memories we made along the way, its the words we recited to one another's ears, its the whispers that fell in the sheltering comfort. Its that what remains, all else turns to a blur...”
Jayita Bhattacharjee

Ashley Warlick
“She browned onions and garlic, and from the pot on the windowsill, chopped a few winter-sad leaves of tarragon. The smell was green and strong, and she thought of spring.
Spring in Dijon, when she and Al would hike into the mountains with the Club Alpin, the old women forever chiding her tentative steps, her newborn French: la petite violette, violette américaine. She would turn back to Al, annoyed, and he would laugh. Hardly his delicate flower. When they stopped for lunch, it was Mary Frances with the soufflé of calves' brains, whatever was made liver or marrow, ordering enough strong wine that everyone was laughing. The way home, the women let her be.
If she wanted calves' brains now, she wouldn't even know where to begin to look or how to pay. She and Al seemed to be living on vegetables and books, tobacco, quiet. She blanched a bunch of spinach and chopped it. She beat eggs with the tarragon, heated the skillet once again. There was a salad of avocados and oranges. There was a cold bottle of ale and bread. Enough, for tonight.”
Ashley Warlick, The Arrangement

Shaun Bythell
“This group derives an alternate sort of gratification from the fact that their niche obsession somehow differentiates them from other people, mistakenly assuming that it makes them more interesting.”
Shaun Bythell, Seven Kinds of People You Find in Bookshops

Luis Alberto Urrea
“Big Angel stood in the shadows of the living room, buffeted by stories of the past, things he remembered and things he had learned. Or maybe things he had dreamed. He could no longer tell the difference. The stories flew in like wind through an open window and whirled around him. He could feel them almost pull him off his feet. They seemed to come by their own volition, leaping over years, ignoring the decades. Big Angel found himself in a time storm. He saw it all as if the past were a movie in the Las Pulgas theater.”
Luis Alberto Urrea, The House of Broken Angels

Ella Griffin
“They shared a platter of meze and dips and, for dessert, summer berries dipped in four kinds of melted chocolate. Lovers' food, Lara thought, watching Phil feed Katy a strawberry.
When she was married, she had made special trips to obscure ethnic supermarkets for Vietnamese rice pancakes and soba noodles. She had bought extra-virgin olive oil online from a tiny estate in Sicily. She had discovered celeriac and plantains and Jerusalem artichokes. She had sautéed and ceviched and fricasseed and brûléed.”
Ella Griffin, The Flower Arrangement

Anna Gavalda
“Well, then, mademoiselle, shall I take you to the Riviera?'"
"'Yes,'" -Camille smiled- "'I'd like that.' 'Have you brought your bathing suit?' he'd ask. 'Perfect. And an evening gown as well! We must go to the casino. Don't forget your silver fox coat, it can be cool in Monte Carlo in the evening.' There was a nice smell inside the car. The smell of well-worn leather... It was all so lovely, I remember. The crystal ashtray, the vanity mirror, the tiny little handle to roll the window down, the inside of the glove compartment, the wood. Its was like a flying carpet. 'With a bit of luck we'll get there before nightfall,' he promised. Yes, he was that kind of man, my dad, a big dreamer who could shift gears on a car up on blocks for hours on end and take me to the far corners of the earth in a suburban garage. He was really into opera, too, so wee listened to Don Carlos, La Traviata or The Marriage of Figaro during the trip. He would tell me the stories: Madame Butterfly's sorrow, the impossible love of Pelléas and Mélisande- when he confesses, 'I have something to tell you' and then he can't; the stories with the countess and her Cherub who hides all the time, or Alcina, the beautiful witch who turned her suitors into wild animals.”
Anna Gavalda, Hunting and Gathering

Amy E. Reichert
“Everyone always assumed it was her mom who was the grilled cheese aficionado, but it was her dad who had mastered the art first.
"Remember when Dad would make us breakfast grilled cheeses?" May asked.
She and her mom had finally found a rhythm where they could work and talk at the same time.
"I miss those," May said.
Her mom swallowed, then cleared her throat. "I don't know what he did that made them so good. The Nutella and mascarpone was my favorite. I think he browned the butter first- he always did something to make it a little special."
She even managed a tiny smile. May smiled back at her.
"I liked the bacon and egg with marble cheese."
"He grilled that one in bacon grease."
"The house would smell so good."
"Except that one time he got distracted by a crossword and burned the sandwiches. It took all day to to get the smell of burned toast smoke out of the house. And you have to admit, not every one of his creations was good."
May scrunched her face, remembering some of the worst. Her mom wiped at her eyes and flipped the sandwiches in front of her.
"Like the pickle and Brie combo. What was he thinking?"
"That wasn't as bad as the pineapple and blue cheese.”
Amy E. Reichert, The Optimist's Guide to Letting Go

“Beer dulls a memory, brand sets it burning, but wine is the best for a sore heart’s yearning.” He paused and turned to looked at me, his brow furrowed. “I can’t remember the rest of that. Can you?”

“Never heard it before,” I said. “But Teccam claims that out of all the spirits, only wine is suited to reminiscence. He said a good wine allows clarity and focus, while still allowing a bit of comforting coloration of the memory.”
Patrick Rothfuss, The Name of the Wind

Patrick Rothfuss
“Beer dulls a memory, brand sets it burning, but wine is the best for a sore heart’s yearning.” He paused and turned to looked at me, his brow furrowed. “I can’t remember the rest of that. Can you?”

“Never heard it before,” I said. “But Teccam claims that out of all the spirits, only wine is suited to reminiscence. He said a good wine allows clarity and focus, while still allowing a bit of comforting coloration of the memory.”
Patrick Rothfuss, The Name of the Wind

“Yesterday’s dreams and smiles and drunken toasts are today's ghosts.”
Robert Black, The Control Sickness

Gift Gugu Mona
“You can never realize how significant you are in this world, if you keep reminiscing about things that are insignificant.”
Gift Gugu Mona

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