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“But she didn't want to recall things. She wanted to live things â€� or as a compromise, relive rather than reminisce.”
― Betty Smith, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn

“It’s not that I can’t remember. It’s that I prefer not to remember, which means that I prefer not to remember what not remembering did to me the last time I did it.”
― Craig D. Lounsbrough, An Autumn's Journey: Deep Growth in the Grief and Loss of Life's Seasons

“Do I forget, or do I refuse to remember?”
― Craig D. Lounsbrough

“Whenever I heard that languid, beautiful melody, those days came back to me. It wasn’t what I’d characterize as a happy part of my life, living as I was, a balled-up mass of unfulfilled desires. I was much younger, much hungrier, much more alone. But I was myself, pared down to the essentials. I could feel each single note of music, each line I read, seep down deep inside me. My nerves were sharp as a blade, my eyes shining with a piercing light. And every time I heard that music, I recalled my eyes then, glaring back at me from a mirror.”
― Haruki Murakami, South of the Border, West of the Sun

“You must tune everything else out and create from your heart."
I nod, dipping my brush in red acrylic, then white, before mixing the paints on the palette until they form a perfect pink.
I paint a peony, and then another. I somehow recall a garden, far away from here, where there were (are?) peonies. I remember the way the blossoms are so heavy that they flounce over, and I reach for another brush and dip it into green to get the stems just right.”
― Sarah Jio, All the Flowers in Paris