The myth of purgatory is an allegory, a projection, from the present on to the future. This is why purgatory appeals to the imagination. It is our story. It is where we are now. If we are Christians, if we believe in the risen Jesus as Lord, if we ar...
I want to remember our fallen heroes. And after I’ve spent a day remembering them, I want to extend my arm and help them up.
Past and history are not the same. Past is what happened. It consists of events that affected the patient's self, some of which he can remember, but the most he is having trouble remembering. History is transforming the past to a story that the perso...
You don't get to decide what's to big a risk for me. You don't decide what's good for me and what isn't. That's my decision, Dylan. If you care about me so much, then how dare you do this all by yourself? I choose not to destroy my present because of...
Allyson meanwhile is remembering. Why this person? All the things she has told herself, or other people have told her - infatuation or Paris or good acting or lust - no longer hold water, because she remembers so viscerally and feels it anew. It's no...
All love stories have much in common. I wen through the same thing at one point in my life. But that's not what I remember. What I remember is that love returned in the form of another man, new hopes, and new dreams.
Writers remember everything...especially the hurts. Strip a writer to the buff, point to the scars, and he'll tell you the story of each small one. From the big ones you get novels. A little talent is a nice thing to have if you want to be a writer, ...
Do you remember all of your audiences?" Marco asks. "Not all of them," Celia says. "But I remember the people who look at me the way you do." "What way might that be?" "As though they cannot decide if they are afraid of me or they want to kiss me." "...
I remembered Daemon's feather soft kisses on my cheek, and I remembered the clouds parting and the sun shining on a cold February day in Ireland. And as my baby girl was laid on my chest and my husband held my hand, I saw my best friend Kat walk into...
Be a hero, Simon," Simon muttered bitterly, remembering the life Magnus Bane had dangled before him in their first meeting - or at least, the first one Simon could remember. "Have an adventure, Simon. How about, turn your life into one long agonizing...
Sing to me," she said. "That would be valiant, to raise your voice in this dark, lonely place, and it will be useful as well. Sing to me, sing loudly-drown out my dreams, keep me from remembering whatever wants me to remember it. Sing to me, my lord ...
You must not think of time as a quantity, a period, a measure. Look at the sky," Gwynneth said. "The moon has now slipped away to another night, into another world. It was not the time it was here that you remember, Faolan, but rather the luminescenc...
Thinking back to my time with Tad on this lake, I remember it like a painting, a snapshot in my mind. But really, all memories are like paintings: They can be incredibly vivid and lifelike. But in the end, they both just remind us that we only get to...
Percy?" Annabeth gripped his arm. "Oh, bad," he muttered. "Bad. Bad." He looked across the table at Frank and Hazel. "You guys remember Polybotes?" "The giant who invaded Camp Jupiter," Hazel said. "The anti-Poseidon you whacked in the head with a Te...
Memory is the great deceiver. Perhaps there are some individuals whose memories act like tape recordings, daily records of their lives complete in every detail, but I am not one of them. My memory is a patchwork of occurrences, of discontinuous event...
Someone once told me people write down stories because they would like to forget, and those who read are those who would like to remember. Maybe I’m not ready to forget, and maybe you’re not ready to remember. This is what I recall; I’m sorry i...
Glaring at the Gasman, ter Borcht said, “Your time is coming to an end, you pathetic failure of an experiment. Vhat you say now is how you vill be remembered.” Gazzy’s blue eyes flashed. “Then you can remember me telling you to kiss my-” �...
And then you realize one day that you can't remember her scent and nothing smells like her anymore. You can't remember how she feels or the sound of her voice. You haven't thought of her every second of every day. Then--then you feel more alone than ...
Do you remember anything about last night?" he asked. Her stomach churned as memories of the night before swam into mental view. Oh, she recalled a few things. How could she forget? She took a solid gulp of her coffee. "I remember vodka, an ax murder...
The burning point of paper was the moment where I knew that I would have to remember this. Because people would have to remember books, if other people burn them or forget them. We will commit them to memory. We will be come them. We become authors. ...
I remember us saying that we liked small houses, that proximity engendered closeness in a family. That nobody should be raised by a nanny or in day care. I remember us saying that time, not money, was the greatest resource. That everything would be a...