Trip Down Memory Lane Quotes

I’m not just taking trips down memory lane; I’m broken down on it.

Every time I open the drawer, it's a trip down Memory Lane, which, if you don't turn off at the right exit, merges straight into the Masochistic Nostalgia Highway.

I would take a trip down Memory Lane, but with gas prices sky high, forget about it.

This was the problem with a walk down memory lane. It was almost always foggy, and one was likely to trip and fall.

A trip down memory lane would remind me I hadn't always been this old, this bitter, this fucked-up.

This was the problem with a walk down memory lane. It was almost always foggy, and one was likely to trip and fall. But

I took a trip down Memory Lane. I drove in reverse.

Someone punched him in the arm. “Earth to Sandor. Earth to Sandor.” Kerry was looking at him with mild exasperation. “We’ve still got business to attend to. I assume you tried to block her memory.” “No, as a matter of fact, I didn’t. I did the other night in the alley because I had no choice. This morning’s trip down memory lane also showed her that, too.” “And she didn’t take it well.” His Dame calmly rinsed and loaded the coffee mugs in the top rack of the dishwasher. When he didn’t immediately respond, she used her energy power to give him a slight shove. Despite her diminutive size, Kerry wasn’t afraid to face down irate males several times her size. “Well? Details please.” Irritated, Sandor snapped, “No, Kerry, she didn’t. Not only that, she accused me of using my secret abilities to coerce her into bed. This, after a night of mind-blowing sex that I’ve never experienced before and probably never will again. Is that enough detail for you?” “Watch it, Sandor. That’s my wife you’re crowding there.” Ranulf muscled in to get right up in Sandor’s face, his eyes blazing with blue fire. “I don’t give a rat’s ass how upset you are over this mess you’ve gotten yourself into, Talion. You do NOT talk to my wife like that. Am I making myself clear?” Sandor had been pushed far enough. “No, we’re not clear on that, you low-life berserker. This conversation between me and the Dame does not involve you. Stay the hell out of my business!” He gave Ranulf a shove, a move guaranteed to unleash the Consort’s own need to strike out. But before a single fist connected, an invisible force froze both of them in midswing. Son of a bitch, he wished Kerry would quit doing that. He really needed to punch someone, and Ranulf was such a great target.

The pain was a houseguest you never invited, who doesn’t know when to leave and insists on retelling the story of how you met, over and over. A trip down a specific memory lane that I’d just as soon never take again.

Maybe I should let them go. But I love them. Isn’t that a trip? I came here wanting their uncle to take them, then I went and fell in love with them.” “And him.” Meridith shot a glare at Rita. “Well, you did, honey. Denial won’t change it.” But it wasn’t real. Maybe her feelings were, but his weren’t. He only wanted the children. All this time that she’d thought their uncle was irresponsible and incompetent, he was working a plan to get the kids. “He used me.” Saying the words cut her to the core. “Do you know how that feels? I believed he cared for me; fell for it hook, line, and sinker. How lame can I be?” Rita set her hand on Meridith’s arm. “Maybe he really does love you.” The memories surfaced, unbidden. The feel of his palm cupping her cheek, the sweet taste of his mouth, the sound of her name on his lips. But just as quickly, caution shut down the thoughts. Love was unsafe. It was unpredictable and cruel. She’d known it when she’d come here, but somehow the magic of the island lured her, made her forget. Jake made her forget. “If only I’d realized who he was. If I’d known, it would’ve changed everything.” “Maybe you should hear him out,” Rita said. She shook her head. “No. I’m done with that. Done with Jake, done with love.

full disclosure, Mister Spock. Who is the Shenzhou’s XO to you?” “Her name is Michael Burnham,” Spock said. “She is . . . a friend of my family.” Pike was confused. “How well do you know her?” “She is a few years older than I am, so we rarely moved in the same social or academic circles. If not for her connection to my parents, I would barely know of her at all.” Having more facts had not made the matter any clearer to Pike. “Never mind the trip down memory lane, then.

While I take a trip down memory lane, I relive my childhood, with none of the friends physically around but still very much around to whisper our moments into my ears. Adorning a bright smile, I tell myself with a proud and contended voice that I hope gets telepathed to my friends-- We have gone down in the history of our lives my friends. History!

Surely it was time she gave herself something? Just one little vacation. A trip down memory lane. A week. A

Another former chess player shared his own fond memory of Thiel from this era. Around the spring of 1988, the team was driving to Monterey for a tournament, with Thiel behind the wheel of the Rabbit. They took California’s Route 17, a four-lane highway that crosses the Santa Cruz Mountains and is regarded as one of the state’s most dangerous. The team was in no particular hurry, but Thiel drove as if he were a man possessed. He navigated the turns like Michael Andretti, weaving in and out of lanes, nearly rear-ending cars as he slipped past them, and seemed to be flooring the accelerator for large portions of the trip. Somewhat predictably, the lights of a California Highway Patrol cruiser eventually appeared in his rearview. Thiel was pulled over, and the trooper asked if he knew how fast he was going. The young men in the rest of the car, simultaneously relieved to have been stopped and scared of the trooper, looked at each other nervously. “Well,” Thiel responded, in his calmest, most measured baritone. “I’m not sure if the concept of a speed limit makes sense.” The officer said nothing. Thiel continued: “It may be unconstitutional. And it’s definitely an infringement on liberty.” The officer looked at Thiel and the geeks in the beater car and decided the whole thing wasn’t worth his time. He told Thiel to slow down and have a nice day. “I don’t remember any of the games we played,” said the man, now in his fifties, who’d been in the passenger seat. “But I will never forget that drive.