City of memories, city of mirrors. — Justin Cronin, The City of Mirrors
City of memories, city of mirrors. — Justin Cronin, The City of Mirrors
City of memories, city of mirrors. — Justin Cronin, The City of Mirrors
City of memories, city of mirrors. — Justin Cronin, The City of Mirrors
City of memories, city of mirrors. — Justin Cronin, The City of Mirrors
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City of memories, city of mirrors.

— Justin Cronin, The City of Mirrors
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More “Memories” Quotes

People leave strange little memories of themselves behind when they die. — Haruki Murakami, Norwegian Wood
If this continues, if this goes on, then when I die, your memories of me will be my greatest accomplishment. You memorie — David Levithan, The Lover's Dictionary
Tessa had lain down beside him and slid her arm beneath his head, and put her head on his chest,listening to the ever-we — Cassandra Clare
I thought of you and how you love this beauty,And walking up the long beach all aloneI heard the waves breaking in measu — Sara Teasdale
If we knew a person was going to die, we'd hold harder to the memories."Fire corrected him, in a whisper. "The good memo — Kristin Cashore, Fire
Remember me, even if it's only in a corner and secretly. Don't let me go. — Carlos Ruiz Zafón, The Shadow of the Wind
...what happens when you returnand find nothingbut a hollowed shell,shingles and floor,walls and echoesand the light tha — Kellie Elmore, Magic in the Backyard
They were people whose lives were slow, who did not see themselves growing old, or falling sick, or dying, but who disap — Gabriel García Márquez, Love in the Time of Cholera
Psychoanalysis is often about turning our ghosts into ancestors, even for patients who have not lost loved ones to death — Norman Doidge, The Brain That Changes Itself: Stories of Personal Triumph from the Frontiers of Brain Science
Oh, but once my memories had pulsed with the blood-heat of life. In desperation, I forced myself to recall that once, I — Stephen R. Lawhead, Byzantium
One night he sits up. In cots around him are a few dozen sick or wounded. A warm September wind pours across the country — Anthony Doerr, All the Light We Cannot See
Cassandra wondered at the mind's cruel ability to toss up flecks of the past. Why, as she neared her life's end, her gra — Kate Morton, The Forgotten Garden