Oleksandr Usyk Quotes

It was mint and memories and the past and the future and she felt as if she’d done this before and already she longed to do it again.

It is anticipation and recollection that fill the heart—never the sensation of the moment.

They spend their time looking forward to the past.

I would like to go back to Wales. I'm obsessed with my childhood and at least three times a week dream I am back there.

You can certainly get an idea of the value of memory if your memories can carry you out into the world no matter how utterly dissatisfied you may be with the present and wish you could get away from it.

I dwell in the past.

Memory is satisfied desire.

But that mimosa grove-the haze of stars, the tingle, the flame, the honey-dew, and the ache remained with me, and that little girl with her seaside limbs and ardent tongue haunted me ever since-until at last, twenty-four years later, I broke her spell by incarnating her in another.

How that name comes up. Mixing memory and desire

Every man is obsessed by the memories of his own youth.

Percy climbed the first step, then the next, remembering the thousands of times she'd run through the door, in a hurry to get to the future, to whatever was coming next, to this moment.

Imagining the future is a kind of nostalgia.

Up on the roof Tatiana thought about the evening minute, the minute she used to walk out the factory doors, turn her head to the left even before her body turned, and look for his face. The evening minute as she hurried down the street, her happiness curling her mouth upward to the white sky, the red wings speeding her to him, to look up at him and smile.

When I’m running, there’s always this split second when the pain is ripping through me and I can hardly breathe and all I see is color and blur—and in that split second, right as the pain crests, and becomes too much, and there’s a whiteness going through me, I see something to my left, a flicker of color […]—and I know then, too, that if I only turn my head he’ll be there, laughing, watching me, and holding out his arms. I don’t ever turn my head to look, of course. But one day I will. One day I will, and he’ll be back, and everything will be okay. And until then: I run.

The entire world is a collection of memoranda that she did exist, and that I have lost her.

The more vast the amount of time we've left behind us, the more irresistible is the voice calling us to return to it.

In my heart, I'm always in my rail-hosen.

This is what I want: I want to grab my brother’s hand and run back through time, losing years like coats falling from our shoulders.

I long ago lost a hound, a bay horse, and a turtle-dove, and am still on their trail. Many are the travellers I have spoken concerning them, describing their tracks and what calls they answered to. I have met one or two who had heard the hound, and the tramp of the horse, and even seen the dove disappear behind a cloud, and they seemed as anxious to recover them as if they had lost them themselves.

Your old home town's so far away, but inside your head there's a record that's playing, a song called 'Hold On

Of all that I have possessed in my life, my memories are the only things remaining to me. Indeed, I believe that memories are the only real treasure any human can hope to hold always.

I wanted to remember in order to be able to return.

Shall memory restore The steps and the shore, The face and the meeting place.

My thoughts will echo your name until I see you again.

History is a state of yearning. I yearn for Kay Lake throughout this entire thing. There's an essay I've written where I talked about living in the past. There's a whole motif in the book of then and now. And I lived there.