Veronica Webb Quotes

Pretty mundane closet, but a lot of ties. And I tend not to throw anything out, so I have a lot of clothes from all times from my life. I can be a little sentimental with things like that.

For me, clothing is nothing without the story behind it. Everything I own evokes some kind of memory.

In every woman's wardrobe, there are certain accessories that cannot be separated from their back stories.

The first coat I ever bought is in a plastic bag in about five pieces. It's by Sonia Rykiel. I can't wear it anymore, but I still like it.

A lot of my designs are inspired by the 1930s, when people were fabulous at dressing up. Then it just all kind of fell away.

My clothes have a story. They have an identity. They have a character and a purpose. That's why they become classics. Because they keep on telling a story. They are still telling it.

Keep your old love letters. Throw away your old bank statements.

But Jude,' she would say, 'you knew me. All those days and years, Jude, you knew me. My ways and my hands and how my stomach folded and how we tried to get Mickey to nurse and how about that time when the landlord said...but you said...and I cried, Jude. You knew me and had listened to the things I said in the night, and heard me in the bathroom and laughed at my raggedy girdle and I laughed too because I knew you too, Jude. So how could you leave me when you knew me?

This house sheltered us, we spoke, we loved within those walls. That was yesterday. To-day we pass on, we see it no more, and we are different, changed in some infinitesimal way. We can never be quite the same again.

Even if our home burns down we can rebuild it. But the things that we got for nothing, we can never replace.

I have a beautiful address book a friend gave me in 1966. I literally cannot open it again. Ever. It sits on the shelf with over a hundred names crossed out. What is there to say? There are no words. I'll never understand why it happened to us.

I hate to see it go, I'll tell you that. I played here all my life. Eighteen years I played here and I'm sorry to see it go.

That mirror, that's one I hate to let go, he said. That was my daughter's the whole time she was growing up. It probably seen her more than me--everything from a baby up to twenty years old. Sometimes I wonder if all that might still be inside it. Got to make an impression on a thing, reflecting the same person every day.

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.

All my jewelry has stories.

In the loss of an object we do not proportion our grief to the real value it bears, but to the value our fancies set upon it.

We can't hold on to anyone or anything, you know. We lose everything except that which we carry within us.

You are my life. You're the only thing it would hurt to lose.

If the matter of death is reduced to sleep and rest, what can there be so bitter in it, that any one should pine in eternal grief for the decease of a friend?

Maybe forgetfulness, like a kind snow, should numb and cover them. But they were a part of me. They were my landscape.

The pain of leaving those you grow to love is only the prelude to understanding yourself and others.

Did you love well what you very soon left? Come home and take me in your arms and take away this stomach ache, headache, heartache.

Oh do not die, for I shall hate All women so, when thou art gone.

I pulled Lena's necklace out of my pocket. I let the charms roll around in my palm, but they were tangled and meaningless without her. The necklace was heavier than I imagined, or maybe it was the weight of my conscience.