There are people you remember and people you dream of.
We exist as long as somebody remembers us.
I've always thought that we are what we remember, and the less we remember, the less we are.
That's what happens when people reach old age; nobody remembers they've been bastards too.
Deep down we've never been who we think we once were, and we only remember what never happened.
He would have liked to know that somebody wanted to keep him alive, that someone remembered him. He used to say that we exist as long as somebody remembers us.
Nothing important is learned; it is simply remembered.
Remember me, even if it's only in a corner and secretly. Don't let me go.