Everything that is incomprehensible does not cease to exist.

I suppose if a man has something once, always something of it remains.

Some things you forget. Other things you never do. But it's not. Places, places are still there. If a house burns down, it's gone, but the place — the picture of it — stays, and not just in my remory, but out there, in the world. What I remember is a picture floating around out there outside my head. I mean, even if I don't think if, even if I die, the picture of what I did, or knew, or saw is still out there. Right in the place where it happened.

And never forget, there is memory.

On trouve toujours quelque chose, hein, Didi, pour nous donner l'impression d'exister?

If it's still in your mind, it is still in your heart.

There is always something left to love.

It's important to always have people who remember you at various stages of your life. It's especially important as you get older, because there are less of those people around. And they remind you of who you are.

As long as we have memories, yesterday remains. As long as we have hope, tomorrow awaits. As long as we have love, today is beautiful. As long as we have God, anything and everything is possible.

All moments, past, present and future, always have existed, always will exist.

Your past is always your past. Even if you forget it, it remembers you.

That's the thing about magic; you've got to know it's still here, all around us, or it just stays invisible for you.

It's always something.

See, as much as you want to hold on to the bitter sore memory that someone has left this world, you are still in it