Ellen Glasgow Quotes

One lives in the hope of becoming a memory.

You can keep the things of bronze and stone and give me one man to remember me just once a year.

I always felt that one needs to be remembered long after one has gone.

Remember, once more how our world should be. And please, don't forget, please, please don't forget.

Someone, I tell you, in another time will remember us

... if one can remember without loving, then couldn't one love without remembering?

To be remembered at all is an achievement of sorts.

For my name and memory I leave to men's charitable speeches, and to foreign nations and the next ages.

Memory always obeys the commands of the heart.

Just to be remembered is good enough for me. Lots of people are forgotten.

It's very inconvenient because every time I finish, let's say, a chapter of a book, I think I'm going to ring Richard and then realize: Oh, Christ, I've buried him. I buried him last year.

The bat is gone, but the smile remains.

Man is the only creature we know, that, when the term of his natural life is ended, leaves the memory of himself behind him.

As long as people remember me forever, that will be enough for me.

Our life is a hope which is continually converting itself into memory and memory in its turn begets hope.

It sure is a nice feeling to know that people will remember you after you're gone, that you'll manage to be a little bit of history.

I want to be remembered.

Human life, old and young, takes place between hope and remembrance. The young man sees all the gates to his desires open, and the old man remembers--his hopes.

Petals floating by, Drift through my woman's hand, As she remembers me.

Remember me when I am gone away, Gone far away into the silent land; When you can no more hold me by the hand, Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay. Remember me when no more day by day You tell me of our future that you planned: Only remember me; you understand It will be late to counsel then or pray. Yet if you should forget me for a while And afterward remember, do not grieve: For if the darkness and corruption leave A vestige of the thoughts that once I had, Better by far you should forget and smile Than that you should remember and be sad.

Of one thing alone I am very sure: it is a law of our nature that the memory of longing should survive the more fugitive memory of fulfillment.

I wondered if there would ever be a day when I didn't think about Alaska, wondered whether I should hope for a time when she would be a distant memory - recalled only on the anniversary of her death, or maybe a couple of weeks after, remembering only after having forgotten.

Few have wished for memory so much as they have longed for forgetfulness.

It was not in me It came and went I wanted to hold it It was held by wine (I no longer know what it was)

Music, when soft voices die, Vibrates in the memory; Odours, when sweet violets sicken, Live within the sense they quicken. Rose leaves, when the rose is dead, Are heap'd for the belovèd's bed; And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone, Love itself shall slumber on.