Quotes & Sayings About Love And Making Memories

We thought everything would be
forgotten, but I still remember your
claws running down my back.

I wonder if you still think about us,
the way I do.

How our legs would crash
into each other in the middle
of the night, and how we ended
up creating the moon in the
confines of our beds. — Zaeema J. Hussain

Ingredients for a terrific Christmas: Christ. Love for one another. Forgiveness. Generosity. Time. Music. Children's laughter. Reminising with loved ones. Remembering those who are alone. The making of new memories. — Toni Sorenson

I am haunted by the memories of all the girls I could have had, but for whatever reason, shyness, pride, fear, I did not embark on a journey which would have ended with us making love. As I said, these memories haunt me, mostly at night, and so my advice for younger males is that if you sense a girl is into you, do something about it, cause later you will regret it, if you don't. — Robert Black

The little things we value as mundane or pithy usually turn into the big things in hindsight ... an "I love you" called out as the door closes, a walk around the same block with the same friend, Grandma's chocolate cake every time you visit ... the brush of skin on skin as two loves pause to breath in sync. Life isn't made up of miles, but memories. Cherish them while you're making them, not just after you can't make those memories anymore. — Toni Sorenson

Our love was dangerous.
It was asking me to come with him.
It was "South it is, brown eyes."
It was dancing in the rain on the hood of his car.
It was making dents that only we knew.
It was living in the moment and making memories and deals.
It was being in love and having your heart ripped from your chest. Here you take it, I don't want it anymore. It was that kind of shit.
It was "Please don't do this, not here."
It was here now, listen to me.
It was waiting, I water, and we waited. Nothing.
It was remembering every detail, everything that made him Dylan Wade and remembering nothing at all. — Shey Stahl

If it wasn't for you, I don't know where I'd be. Thank you for genuinely loving me. Thank you for showing me That I was loved. Thank you for making me feel wanted. Thank you for guiding me and teaching me. Thank you for our beautiful memories. You made the difference In my life. You were my only bright spot. My comfort zone. My place of happiness and freedom. Just thinking about our love Brightens up my day. Flashbacks of us makes My heart happy. You were my favorite person In this entire world. You gave me what so many people Yearn for in life, GENUINE LOVE. — Stephanie Lahart

Hemingway is great in that alone of living writers he has saturated his work with the memory of physical pleasure, with sunshine and salt water, with food, wine and making love and the remorse which is the shadow of that sun. — Cyril Connolly

I care about the records I make and I love writing songs and some songs are really dear to me and they mean something. But the memory of making the records and the activities surrounding the records, the people involved in them is actually a bigger thing to me. — Joel Plaskett

I love New York. It is an amazing city, and the U.S. Open is a lot about the show. There are tens of thousands of spectators; these are some of the best courts in the world, and there is nothing like being here and making memories. — Stanislas Wawrinka

I just want a life of happiness, laughter and possibility,
I want a passion that I call my job, to pay my bills.
I want to spend my time, eating good food & making unremarkable memories with the family I have left.
I want friends that can be honest enough to tell me, if I fuck up, so I can fix it & also beautiful enough to know when I'm lieing in my smile.
I want a lover who isn't afraid to love me with every inch of his heart but also fearless in keeping his individual voice as we grow together.
And I will have all of it, because I believe I am worthy of it. — Nikki Rowe

Making love was a game of echoes. We had shared memories so many times that when I made love to her, I knew exactly how it felt to be Purslane. I could taste and feel her other lovers and she could taste and feel mine, each experience reaching away like a reflection in a hall of mirrors, diminishing into a kind of carnal background radiation, a sea of sensuous experience. I had been a girl once, then a thousand men and women and all their lovers. The stasis field locked on. The Synchromesh took hold. I hurtled into my own future, while my ship ate space and time.

- "House of Suns" by Alastair Reynolds — Alastair Reynolds

I have memories of my grandfather Kirkman making mashed potatoes that were so good because they tasted like a bowl of butter. I love my mom's brownies. My favorite thing about both of those recipes is that someone else made them for me. — Jen Kirkman

Stop there, Breathe.
For a while you need to leave, live.
Stop pushing your face into that photo called
past, stuck in the photo frame of time. Stop
scratching your heart, give the wound time to
heal. For i know, when the photo frame falls
down, the broken pieces of glass fall apart,
just like memories. But no, you want to keep
it to the chest, close to your heart. You know
you shouldn't but you're too coward to let go.
It keep sucking your heart, into a black hole
of muddy memories. Making you a dark
shattered soul, incapable of finding solace.
So stop. For a while let's just live. Let's just
breathe. Let's just love ourselves, for it's you
who need it the most. — Sameer Khan

I still love making hamburgers on the grill. I guess whenever I eat them childhood memories come up for me. — Bobby Flay

I woke up to an ache in my chest, the smell of chocolate, and the sound of the ghost making a racket in the kitchen. Now, I'm not the sort to dwell on doom and sorrow. Life is too short for that. But I should at least try to describe the ache briefly: It is not the kind that comes from eating tacos too late at night. It's the kind that comes from being left behind. I think my heart is smart enough to know there's a place I should be filling with new memories, new jokes, and wondrous adventures with the one person I loved most of all. But that person is gone now. And so, my heart has a giant hole. I call it The Big Empty. — Natalie Lloyd

Every time I hear anyone speak of the Sacred Heart of Jesus or of the Blessed Sacrament I feel an indescribable joy. It is as if a wave of precious memories, sweet affections and joyful hopes swept over my poor person, making me tremble with happiness and filling my soul with tenderness. These are loving appeals from Jesus who wants me wholeheartedly there, at the source of all goodness, his Sacred Heart, throbbing mysteriously behind the Eucharistic veils ... I love to repeat today 'Sweet Heart of my Jesus, make me love You more and more.' — Pope John XXIII

William's head tilted and the fluorescent lights above us reflected in his eyes, making them glow like translucent sapphires. "I wasn't sure I had anything here in Providence drawing me back." He studied my face and then smiled that schoolboy grin from all my memories. "But I don't think Providence has seen the last of me yet. — Robin M. King

I love the live performances and Las Vegas. I also like making films that are being discovered by another generation. Having been a teen idol of the '60s is great because you realize you left your generation with a smile and good memories. — Connie Stevens

Jesus, music has always been my first love. I use music in my work because it's the fastest way to an emotional place. You hear a song, and that memory comes right back
you're there ... Making music is immediate, and it's all about you. If you're playing guitar, the feeling comes through
the way you bend the note, the intensity with which you hit the strings. With making films, although it's real emotion, it's false emotion. You're lying. — Johnny Depp

There's something about houses that intrigues me. I mean, they're the place where families spend all their time together, making the house filled with love, life, and laughter. I always look at houses and wonder what's going on inside. Without the people who lived in them, they're just a shell, but once they're filled, they become sacred ground, the place where memories are made. — Taylor Dean

Manage me, I am a mess, swept under the rug of yesterday's home improvement, a whimsical urge tossed aside for the easy reassurance of home and comfort. I am the photograph tucked away as a book-mark, in a book left half unread, once reopened to find memories crawling back into peripheral sight, faded, creased and lonely. I long to be admired, long to be held, torn and laughed at, laughed with, like a distant relative or an old friend breathing in their last breath. I missed the moment when time collapsed and memory was erased, replaced by finicky social experiments, lost in the blur of intoxication, sucked through multi-colored bendy-straws, making way for a spinning world where hub-caps stood still, but our vision didn't. If I could leave you with only one thing, it would be small, foldable, and made from trees, with a few careless words, scribbled in blue; Take a minute to learn me, take a moment to love me, because I need your love to live,and without it, I am nothing. — Alex Gaskarth

Making a beautiful, happy home is not about what we don't have or what we want to buy. It's all about what we do have, and how incredibly precious it all is. It's about how we spend the days we're given with this family of ours, and making the home we share a place our kids will love to describe to our grandchildren. It's about making our kids' memories delightful. — Gabrielle Stanley Blair

I'm getting off the boat at Coconut Grove. It's six and you're not on the dock. I finish up, and start walking home, thinking you're tied up making dinner, and then I see you and Ant hurrying down the promenade. He is running and you're running after him. You're wearing a yellow dress. He jumps on me, and you stop shyly, and I say to you, come on, tadpole, show me what you got, and you laugh and run and jump into my arms. Such a good memory.
I love you, babe. — Paullina Simons

This one whom habit of memory propels to the ground of his making,
sleeper only the mortal sounds can sing awake,
this blessing love gives again into our arms. — Galway Kinnell

There is nothing better
than us,
making memories of us. — Timothy Joshua