The house gulped in a big breath of fresh air, like some frantic drowning thing breaking the water's surface and gasping for life. It had sat unopened for so long, suffocating in the silence, it's memories blanketed by a thick layer of dust.

Time will age everything except your best memories.

One of my principal childhood memories is hearing one of the Liszt Hungarian Rhapsodies waft throughout the house.

It was like trying to recall a forgotten dream—each time I felt close to remembering where we’d met, the memories slipped away.

Therefore, the places in which we have experienced daydreaming reconstitute themselves in a new daydream, and it is because our memories of former dwelling-places are relived as day-dreams that these dwelling-places of the past remain in us for all time.

When you build a house
You nail down memories
Paint and stain the fabric of time