88 Quotes About Reminiscence

Or poking through a house, in closets shut for years,Full of the scent of time - acrid, musky, dank,One comes, perhaps, upon a flask of memoriesIn whose escaping scent a soul returns to life.- The Flask

Chodziłam po domu i mamrotałam coś do siebie. Kiedy człowiek jest starszy, takie zajęcie sprawia przyjemność. Rozprawiasz się, z kim chcesz, wygłaszasz repliki, które nie przyszły ci do głowy w danej chwili, uśmiechasz się na miłe wspomnienie, odtwarzasz rejestr zdarzeń, ilekroć masz na to ochotę, żeby zrozumieć, dlaczego sprawy potoczyły się tak, a nie inaczej. Całe twoje życie jest tam, z tobą, w tym samym pokoju. Twoje plany są raczej planami z przeszłości niż planami na przyszłość.

Zo zal ik vertrekken', zegt Germaine. 'Ik ben het oude hart van een dorp waar niemand komt wonen. Ik zal stoppen met kloppen en het weinige wat ik heb gekend en nog niet is verdwenen, zal verdwijnen. Daar kan ik om wenen en vloeken zo veel als ik wil en dat zal er niets aan veranderen. Maar ik zal gelukkig zijn en weten dat ik heb gedaan wat ik kon', lacht ze met tranen in de ogen. Om zich een houding te geven schuifelt ze naar de wasbak.

I "dated" one boy and our song was "Faithfully" by Journey. Every time it played my body would turn electric, and I would stare out whatever window I was near and reminisce about experiences I hadn't had. Is there a word for when you are young and pretending to have lived and loved a thousand lives? Is there a German word for that? Seems like there should be. Let's say it is Schaufenfrieglasploit.

The fifties are a peaceful time, a quiet sleeping time between two noisy bursts of years, a blue and white time filled with sweet yellow days, music and bright smelling memories.

He didn’t like remembering such things, but by now he was used to the way life was punctuated by such moments, which sent hooks into parts of the past one might prefer to forget.

Everyone likes to reminisce, but not one wants to listen, and everyone feels annoyed when someone else tells a story.

He stood with his two frail hands on his cane and his eyes closed, and breathed in deeply the scent of the past. "Sometimes," he sighed, "I think the things I remember are more real than the things I see.

How did he get here? What drew him back? Easy answer: the monkey bars. Not-so-easy answer. . . . What took him away in the first place? Gyroscopic deflections are only partly to blame. Who can stop a revolving planet? Who can predict where on the table a spinning quarter will fall flat?