Lost love is still love. It takes a different form, that's all. You can't see their smile or bring them food or tousle their hair or move them around a dance floor. But when those senses weaken another heightens. Memory.… — Mitch Albom Copy Share Image
“Memory. Memory becomes your partner. You nurture it. You hold it. You dance with it.” — Mitch Albom Copy Share Image
“He wondered how it was fair that your dying should depend so much on when you were born.” — Mitch Albom Copy Share Image
“After the funeral, my life changed. I felt as if time were suddenly precious, water going down an open drain, and I could not… — Mitch Albom Copy Share Image
“Once, lovers on faraway shores sat by candlelight and dipped ink to parchment, writing words that could not be erased. They took an evening… — Mitch Albom Copy Share Image
Giving to other people makes me feel alive. Not my car or my house. Not what I look like in the mirror. When I… — Mitch Albom Copy Share Image
“If the only thing wrong with Moses is that he's not yours; if the only thing wrong with Jesus is that he's not yours;… — Mitch Albom Copy Share Image
“Sometimes your kids will say the nastiest things, won't they, Rose? You want to ask,'Whose child is this?'" Rose chuckled. "But usually, they're just… — Mitch Albom Copy Share Image
“I had also developed my own culture. Work. Over the years, I had taken labor as my companion and had moved everything else to… — Mitch Albom Copy Share Image
