Sarah Pinborough Quotes

It is curious to note how fragile the memory is, even for the important times in one's life. This is, moreover, what explains the fortunate fantasy of history.

We forget all too soon the things we thought we could never forget.

Day by day and night by night we were together - all else has long been forgotten by me.

But I didn't frame it; I put into an envelope and sealed it and stuffed it far back into a corner drawer of a filing cabinet. It's there, just in case one of these days I start to lose her. There might be a morning when I wake up and her face isn't the first thing I see. Or a lazy August afternoon when I can't quite recall anymore where the freckles were on her right shoulders. Maybe one of these days, I will not be able to listen to the sound of snow falling and hear her footsteps.

we travel far and fast and as we pass through we forget where we have been

Never go back to a place where you have been happy. Until you do it remains alive for you. If you go back it will be destroyed.

It scares me how hard it is to remember life before you. I can't even make the comparisons anymore, because my memories of that time have all the depth of a photograph. It seems foolish to play games of better and worse. It's simply a matter of is and is no longer.

The loneliness is when you pick up and move, even if you are not originally from that place, and you have some memories that you want to embrace. Having a life in transit, I feel like you are always looking out the back window.

I don't believe I could live in Iran again. A tree, once uprooted from the earth, is very difficult to plant again.

I think that my regrets mostly have to do with my relationship with my ex-girlfriend. Every once in a while, you get those flashback memories of conversations you had with your exes, and you just, like, wince when you're walking down the street. Something occurs to you, 'Oh, no, I said that.'

L.A. really doesn't feel like home to me anymore.

It's been 25 years now, and truthfully, time sometimes blurs the memory.

Every station I was at, I never said goodbye - when I was in Detroit, Cleveland, Buffalo, Oakland, and L.A. I don't know why.

We bury love; Forgetfulness grows over it like grass: That is a thing to weep for, not the dead.

The things which I have seen I now can see no more.

Is the modern social pattern of unending change and movement the cause of two modern diseases, insecurity and dissatisfaction? How lucky Thomas Hood was to be able to write, 'I remember, I remember the house where I was born.' I don't even know what mine looked like!

For me, a relationship with a place is very fundamental. When you're moving - when you're leaving your life and the place where you've lived on a semi-regular basis - you tend to connect the sense of your entire life to that place that you've left.

Going home is not necessarily a wonderful experience. It always comes with a sense of loss and makes you so conscious of the inexorable passage of time.

I haven't dated anyone in the ten years since we lost Steve just because I feel a connection still with Steve.

How important things had become, now that they were gone! I felt a sudden panic that I would soon forget everything.

You forget all of it anyway. . . You forget who was cool and who was not, who was pretty, smart, athletic, and not. . . You forget all of them. Even the ones you said you loved, and even the ones you actually did. They’re the last to go. And then once you’ve forgotten enough, you love someone else.

The calendar has a magic that makes us imagine a memory can be resurrected and revived, but nothing returns.