I think it is all a matter of love; the more you love a memory the stronger and stranger it becomes

Making memories matters

I find out more and more every day how important it is for people to share their memories.

Memory's truth, because memory has its own special kind. It selects, eliminates, alters, exaggerates, minimizes, glorifies, and vilifies also; but in the end it creates its own reality, its heterogeneous but usually coherent version of events; and no sane human being ever trusts someone else's version more than his own.

Take a person’s memories, and you change who they are.

Memories mean more to me than dresses.

A happy memory is perhaps on this earth truer than happiness itself.

The memories which lie within us are not carved in stone; not only do they tend to becomeerased as the years go by, but often they change, or even grow, by incorporating extraneous features. Judges know this very well: almost never do two eyewitnesses of the same event describe it in the same way and with the same words, even if the event is recent and if neither of them has a personal interest in distorting it.

Memory. Memory becomes your partner. You nurture it. You hold it. You dance with it.

You are a memory
too strong to leave this world...

Pain engraves a deeper memory.

It's still a memory worth having, even if it's not exactly what you imagined.

The more you understand, the more you love; the more you love, the more you understand.

Some memories are realities and are better than anything that can ever happen to one again.