Willa Cather Quotes

I still remember the day my father took me to the Cemetery of Forgotten Books for the first time.

I was amazed at the house that I grew up in; it looks practically identical to the way it was, but I couldn't recognize it because of the size of the trees.

I do not believe that friends are necessarily the people you like best, they are merely the people who got there first.

I was 13 and at summer camp when I had my first kiss.

I have just one black and white photograph left of my mother when she was younger. She was 17 when it was taken and beautiful with wispy curls and eyes that shone like dark marbles.

I have a good memory for early life. My visual memory is good about childhood and adolescence, and less good in the last 10 years. I could probably tell you less what happened in the last 10 years. I remember what houses looked like, sometimes they just pop into my head.

I remember way back when I was young, 10 years ago.

There's all kinds of those moments in your life where either through a weird set of circumstances, or a song you hear, or a smell you smell, or one person says something totally out of the context without the meaning that you assigned to it, but you snap back to the way you were when you were 14 or 15. We all deal with that.

People recognize me, but I get a lot of, 'Didn't I go to camp with you?'

The people I see every day have known me since I was a little fat kid.

If you make a film about childhood, you've got to pick a moment - you know, 'The 400 Blows.'

I still sleep with my baby blanket.

I first met Rhoda Morgenstern in the spring of 1970.

There are two smells that I can recognize right away. The smell of the boxing ring and the smell of a garage. That's where I grew up. I can recognize these places with my eyes closed.

I've known my best friend since I was 12 or 13.

With Street View, you're curating a data set capable of incredible emotional resonance for the person interacting with it because everyone grew up somewhere. And if your house is in this dataset, that's going to provide some emotional context for you.

I went by Andy when I was younger.

I don't really remember a lot of my childhood.

It's weird because I grew up in this town, so the things I really dug, I was constantly around them. Like Alyssa Milano - I had the biggest crush on her from TV, but I also saw her around town at parties. It's just funny.

When I was little there was a picture in one of our books, a dark place into which a single weak ray of light came slanting upon two faces lifted out of the shadow.

That was the summer of 1963, when everybody called me ‘Baby,’ and it didn't occur to me to mind.

I felt like lying down by the side of the trail and remembering it all. The woods do that to you, they always look familiar, long lost, like the face of a long-dead relative, like an old dream, like a piece of forgotten song drifting across the water, most of all like golden eternities of past childhood or past manhood and all the living and the dying and the heartbreak that went on a million years ago and the clouds as they pass overhead seem to testify (by their own lonesome familiarity) to this feeling.

[Paper Girls] is very much is about how we are thinking about our past and growing up.

For I do not want any one to read my book carelessly. I have suffered too much grief in setting down these memories. Six years have already passed since my friend went away from me, with his sheep. If I try to describe him here, it is to make sure that I shall not forget him. To forget a friend is sad. Not every one has had a friend. And if I forget him, I may become like the grown-ups who are no longer interested in anything but figures.

I think "waste of your brain" is something that my mother would say to me occasionally - I think it's usually when I'm telling her something like that I can remember every outfit I've ever worn.