Brandon Sanderson Quotes

It was strange how you didn’t realise how much you loved a place until you had lost it completely.

From daydreams on the road there was no waking. He plodded on. He could remember everything of her save her scent. Seated in a theatre with her beside him leaning forward listening to the music. Gold scrollwork and sconces and the tall columnar folds of the drapes at either side of the stage. She held his hand in her lap and he could feel the tops of her stockings through the thin stuff of her summer dress. Freeze this frame. Now call down your dark and your cold and be damned.

There's no ifs and buts or maybes, you're gonna miss, you're gonna miss my loving.

I missed her then but it was an odd sort of missing because by then, I knew the meaning of forever.

Everything I see and touch reminds me of him, and so everything I see and touch is perfect.

I no longer love her, that's certain, but maybe I love her. Love is so short, forgetting is so long.

We gather the things we learned, and they don't nearly add up to fill the space of a life. You will miss the taste of Froot Loops. You will miss the sound of traffic. You will miss your back against his. You will miss him stealing the sheets. Do not ignore these things.

I cannot speculate on what our cluttered mind will save- sleepy Sundays, or a nosebleed after love. I know only the dying heart needs the nourishment of memory to live beyond too many winters.

The girl traced the outline of her lover's shadow so she would always have a record of how he looked.

Why love if losing hurts so much? I have no answers anymore; only the life I have lived. The pain now is part of the happiness then.

Nostalgia is something we think of as fuzzy. But it's pain. Pain concerning the past.

How little remains of the man I once was, save the memory of him! But remembering is only a new form of suffering.

I miss the game - I miss it a lot.

Dad, wherever you are, you are gone but you will never be forgotten.

Of joys departed, not to return, how painful the remembrance.

When I designed my loft, I literally framed the World Trade Center as a picture postcard I could see from my bed. I no longer have that image, and I mourn it.

The punctuation of anniversaries is terrible, like the closing of doors, one after another between you and what you want to hold on to.

I always make a distinction between nostalgia and sentimentality. Nostalgia is genuine - you mourn things that actually happened.

If I had any advice to give to anybody, it would be record your parents talking so that, when you're longing to hear that voice, you can play the tape. But for me, it's a little often. You don't always need to be reminded that he isn't here anymore.

I very much loved my late wife, Diana Joy Colbert, and I'd rather hold onto what I can.

McKenna will always be a part of me, no matter where he goes. They say that people who've lost a limb sometimes feel as if they still have it. How many times I've felt that McKenna was still here, and the empty space beside me was alive with his presence." She closed her eyes and leaned forward until her forehead and the tip of her nose touched the cool glass. "I love him beyond reason," she whispered. "He's a stranger to me now, and yet he is still so familiar. I can't imagine a sweeter agony, having him so close.

All that you've loved is all you own

Those that he loved so long and sees no more, Loved and still loves,-not dead, but gone before,- He gathers round him.

But I think she would have been happy with Fabrice,' I said. 'He was the great love of her life, you know.' Oh, dulling,' said my mother, sadly. 'One always thinks that. Every, every time.