Lorrie Fair Quotes

I cherish my time at Ole Miss. I cherish those four years.

I loved my time at BYU. It was an unbelievable experience with the fans, and the people that I have met, I have lifelong relationships still.

Clemson was the best three years of my life.

They were some of the best years of my life, and I'm so thankful I was able to go to Stanford.

And on the last day, the bad days become so difficult to recall, because one way or another, she had made a life here, just as I had. The town was paper, but the memories were not. All the things I’d done here, all the love and pity and compassion and violence and spite, kept welling up inside me.

I miss Seattle a lot. It was my first city that I lived in on my own. It was a great city to play for. It was unfortunate for the fans what happened, but it’s time to move on. I’m sure they’ve moved on. But in the back of my mind, I still have a thing for Seattle and always am going to remember what they’ve done for me.

My four years at Berkley represent two of the happiest weeks of my life.

She went out and took a last long look at the shabby little library. She knew she would never see it again. Eyes changed after they looked at new things. If in the years to be she were to come back, her new eyes might make everything seem different from the way she saw it now. The way it was now was the way she wanted to remember it.

All those moments, those memories. Everything that we are, compressed in just two or three kilos of paper — the weight of a human heart.

It always feels too soon to leap. But you have to. Because that's the moment between you and remarkable.

Remembering our past, carrying it around with us always, may be the necessary requirement for maintaining, as they say, the wholeness of the self. To ensure that the self doesn’t shrink, to see that it holds on to its volume, memories have to be watered like potted flowers, and the watering calls for regular contact with the witnesses of the past, that is to say, with friends. They are our mirror; our memory; we ask nothing of them but that they polish the mirror from time to time so we can look at ourselves in it.

No matter under what circumstances you leave it, home does not cease to be home. No matter how you lived there - well or poorly.

The return to a favorite novel is generally tied up with changes in oneself that must be counted as improvements, but have the feel of losses. It is like going back to a favorite house, country, person; nothing is where it belongs, including one's heart.

But the original was there as well—more jaded and rudimentary, functional rather than romantic. It fit not just the yellow house but another door, deep within my own heart. One that had been locked so tight for so long that I was afraid to even try it for fear of what might be on the other side

There are two kinds of people in this world: those who know where their high school yearbook is and those who do not.

I will never, ever regret the things I've done. Because most days, all you have are places in your memory that you can go to.

I am always drawn back to places where I have lived, the houses and their neighborhoods.

So many of us choose our path out of fear disguised as practicality.

All of us remember the home of our childhood. Interestingly, our thoughts do not dwell on whether the house was large or small, the neighborhood fashionable or downtrodden. Rather, we delight in the experiences we shared as a family. The home is the laboratory of our lives, and what we learn there largely determines what we do when we leave there.

I had funny memories, too, but the music was more important to me than anything else.

The mistakes I've made are dead to me. But I can't take back the things I never did.

Memories can be everything if we choose to make them so. But you are right: you mustn't do that. That is for me, and I shall do it.

I like to have memories of a place. It brings something extra. I'm not even sure what it is. I mean, it's the same part of it as I like using friends in small parts or people I know or my doorman.

I do hang on to things. I was so happy my father saved his army jacket. I grew up wearing that all through high school.

Memories are not shackles, Franklin, they are garlands.