When we look back into our lives we see that our life is but a collection, a collage of these moments which take the shape of images, images which lower our spirits, images which inspire, images which help us remember the people that have come along our way, touched us and silently left, images that go on to become memories and leave a lasting impression as long as we are here, as long as we are here to be. Chirag Tulsiani
Stephen kissed me in the spring, Robin in the fall, But Colin only looked at me And never kissed at all. Stephen’s kiss was lost in jest, Robin’s lost in play, But the kiss in Colin’s eyes Haunts me night and day.
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Sara Teasdale
There are memories that time does not erase... Forever does not make loss forgettable, only bearable.
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Cassandra Clare
Isn't it funny how the memories you cherish before a breakup can become your worst enemies afterwards? The thoughts you loved to think about, the memories you wanted to hold up to the light and view from every angle--it suddenly seems a lot safer to...
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Ally Condie
It scares me how hard it is to remember life before you. I can't even make the comparisons anymore, because my memories of that time have all the depth of a photograph. It seems foolish to play games of better and worse. It's simply a...
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David Levithan
How do you know when it's over?" "Maybe when you feel more in love with your memories than with the person standing in front of you.
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Gunnar Ardelius
More Quotes By Chirag Tulsiani
Endings are abstruse, mystic and unreal. They are but depleted beginnings purposed to be substituted with newer ones. A transition of outlook and time, similar to our differing moods before and after slumber. Before the act we witness an exhaustion, a sulkiness but on gaining...
Life is similar to a bus ride. The journey begins when we board the bus. We meet people along our way of which some are strangers, some friends and some strangers yet to be friends. There are stops at intervals and people board in. <span...
And in that moment he realised that even though the dreams they’d seen together, hoped for and believed in had come true, it wasn’t enough. It was far from reality which was lonesome and woeful. And conceived that love had no lastingness, it was brief...
And much like the despairity of the woman who can never bear children, my dreams can never bear fruit. They are the mountains I can never climb. The hurdles I can never leap. The seas I can never cross. The skies I can never look...
As we grow we seem to go further and further away from that child which rests within. But there was no choice and so we wander beyond innocence, beyond the touch of insanity and groom ourselves into the tastes of the society, fit in to...
