“Australia is an island surrounded by water. My fondest memories growing up were trips to the beach, walking around the harbour and playing in the beautiful parks.” BeautifulWaterMemoriesGrowing UpGrowingWalkingBeachIslandsParksAustraliaHarbors Author:Tammin Sursok
“Everything becomes agitated. Ideas quick-march into motion like battalions of a grand army to its legendary fighting ground, and the battle rages. Memories charge in, bright flags on high; the cavalry of metaphor deploys with a magnificent gallop; the artillery of logic rushes up with clattering wagons and cartridges; on imagination's orders, sharpshooters sight and fire; forms and shapes and characters rear up; the paper is spread with ink - for the nightly labor begins and ends with torrents of this black water, as a battle opens and concludes with black powder.” WritingIdeasEndsCharacterFormOrderFightingBlackWaterImaginationMemoriesFireBattleShapesPaperLaborLogicSightArmyMetaphorSpreadRageMarchFlagsMagnificentInkLegendaryPowderWagonsArtilleryCavalry Author:Honore de Balzac
“Those who have no mental vigilance, Though they may hear the teachings, ponder them or meditate, With minds like water seeping from a leaking jug, Their learning will not settle in their memories.” MindMayWisdomWaterMemoriesTeachingSettlingPonderingVigilanceJugs Author:Shantideva
“Come into my lap and sit in the center of your soul. Drink the living waters of memory and give birth to yourself. What you unearth with stun you. You will paint the walls of this cave in thanksgiving.” GivingSoulWaterMemoriesWallBirthDrinkPaintYour SoulCavesLap Author:Meinrad Craighead
“If they survive, today's children will inherit a world that our fathers and grandfathers have ravaged, where the seas are acidic cesspools that the whales have fled, where rain forests are Indian memories never to return, and where human greed has plundered Mother Earth's innards and turned human genes into factories for profit. They will inherit a diminished planet where fresh water is increasingly rare, and where fresh air is a commodity... We live in a world that fears and hates its young. How else can one explain the bequest of such a foul, polluted, and hollow inheritance?” IfsWorldHumansChildrenTodayEarthYoungMotherHateFatherWaterMemoriesAirSeaPlanetsReturnFutureRainGreedProfitForestsIndianFactoriesGenesGrandfatherCommodityInheritanceHollowOur FatherFoulWhalesMother EarthFresh AirFresh WaterFathers And Grandfathers Author:Mumia Abu-Jamal
“Grief is like the wake behind a boat. It starts out as a huge wave that follows close behind you and is big enough to swamp and drown you if you suddenly stop moving forward. But if you do keep moving, the big wake will eventually dissipate. And after a long time, the waters of your life get calm again, and that is when the memories of those who have left begin to shine as bright and as enduring as the stars above.” IfsLongEnoughBigsMovingLeftStarsWaterMemoriesGriefBehindsHugeLong TimeShiningEndureCalmWaveMoving ForwardBoatKeep MovingBehind YouSwamps Author:Jimmy Buffett
“Of course, now I am too old to be much of a fisherman, and now of course I usually fish the big waters alone, although some friends think I shouldn't. Like many fly fishermen in western Montana where the summer days are almost Arctic in length, I often do not start fishing until the cool of the evening. Then in the Arctic half-light of the canyon, all existence fades to a being with my soul and memories and the sounds of the Big Blackfoot River and a four-count rhythm and the hope that a fish will rise.” ThinkingSoulBigsLightCoursesSoundWaterMemoriesExistenceHalfFourSeaSummerRiversWesternFishesBoatRhythmMy SoulEveningLakesFishingLengthFadesFishermanMontanaArcticCanyonsFly FishingSummer DaysRivers And Water Book:A River Runs Through It Source: A River Runs Through It
“We who go a-fishing are a peculiar people. Like other men and women in many respects, we are like one another, and like no others, in other respects. We understand each other's thoughts by an intuition of which we know nothing. We cast our flies on many waters, where memories and fancies and facts rise, and we take them and show them to each other, and small or large, we are content with our catch.” PeopleKnowsMenFactsShowsWaterMemoriesSeaMen And WomenRiversCastsFishesIntuitionBoatFancyLakesFishingPeculiar Author:William Cowper Prime
“The body remembers, the bones remember, the joints remember, even the little finger remembers. Memory is lodged in pictures and feelings in the cells themselves. Like a sponge filled with water, anywhere the flesh is pressed, wrung, even touched lightly, a memory may flow out in a stream.” MayLittlesFeelingsBodyRememberWaterMemoriesFlowFilledFingersBonesFleshCellsStreamsTouchedJointsSponges Author:Clarissa Pinkola Estes
“I can tell that the Greater Yellowstone from the Tetons, to the Lamar Valley where wolves howl and grizzlies roam, acts as my spine, my range of memory that ties me to landscape of Other. And that the ocean from the rocky coast of Maine, to the Florida everglades, to the looming cliffs at Big Sur, sustain me, remind me we are nothing without salt water, wind, and waves.” I CanBigsWaterMemoriesGreaterWindOceanWaveLandscapeRangeTiesValleysSaltFloridaCoastCliffsSpineHowlMaineLoomingGrizzliesSalt WaterYellowstoneEvergladesBig Sur Author:Terry Tempest Williams
“Memory is a net: one that finds it full of fish when he takes it from the brook, but a dozen miles of water have run through it without sticking.” RunningWaterMemoriesFishesMilesDozenBrooksFish Tanks Book:The Autocrat of the Breakfast-table: Every Man His Own Boswell Source: The Autocrat of the Breakfast-table: Every Man His Own Boswell
“In my old age, I have come to believe that love is not a noun but a verb. An action. Like water, it flows to its own current. If you were to corner it in a dam, true love is so bountiful it would flow over. Even in separation, even in death, it moves and changes. It lives within memory, in the haunting of a touch, the transience of a smell, or the nuance of a sigh. It seeks to leave a trace like a fossil in the sand, a leaf burning into baking asphalt.” IfsBelieveAgeActionMovingWaterMemoriesLove IsFlowCurrentsCornersSmellSeparationOld AgeBurningSandLeafsSighFossilsHauntingBakingVerbsNuanceNounsTrue Love IsDamsTransienceAsphalt Author:Alyson Richman
“I grew up without the rose-tinted look at the profession many of my friends had, but I've been very lucky playing major roles in 'An Ideal Husband', 'Arcadia' and 'The Memory of Water'.” LooksWaterMemoriesRolesGrewLuckyHusbandMajorsGrew UpMy FriendsIdealsRoseProfessionArcadiaIdeal Husband Author:Samantha Bond
“Maybe that's what happens with age, I thought. All your life you force yourself to forget people who have hurt you, but as you get older and weaker their memory surfaces again, like a bubble in the water. You have to surrender, because you feel to tired to fight it and push it down again. And maybe, unexpectedly, you find out that instead, of revamping your anger, those memories produce an unexpected sweetness.” PeopleFeelsHappensAgeFightingForceWaterHurtMemoriesForgetProduceTiredSurfaceSurrenderUnexpectedBubblesSweetness Author:Francesca Marciano
“On the way I stood a moment looking out across the marshes with tall cattails, a patch of water, more marsh, then the woods with a few birch trees shining white at the edge on beyond. In the darkness it all looked just like I felt. Wet and swampy and gloomy, very gloomy. In the morning I painted it. My memory of it is that it was probably my best painting that summer.” WayMomentsFeltWaterMemoriesWhiteMorningDarknessTreePaintingSummerShiningEdgesWoodsTallWetPatchesGloomyMarshesBirch Trees Author:Georgia O'Keeffe