I thought back on my water consumption over the past few days and admitted it was minimal.
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You know, when I thought back on it that was the [same] exact time [that he died].
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Throughout my career, I've always thought back on that as what I want to do with my work.
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I thought back on those experiences this week when hearing from and reading about those affected by Trump's executive order.
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But several months later, he began to warm to the idea, and he thought back on his correspondence with Latimer.
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I thought back on the "From Slavery to Freedom" exhibit, which gives people like Martin R. Delany a place to shine.
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Later, when he thought back on the evening, he thought less about the sex than about the easiness that there was between them afterward.
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A decade later, after he had retired from the State Department, Mr. Kaiser and his wife, Joy, thought back on that experience and looked into the disparities.
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As the proposed sale evolved into a national debate about museum administration ethics, I thought back on my own memories of the museum, which I've visited many times.
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From CNN: Knull said she thought back on what she had seen days earlier: A maintenance person spraying palm plants that covered air conditioning units just outside their room.
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In the weeks since the Harvey Weinstein scandal erupted, I, like many women, have thought back on any number of small and large incidents I've tolerated in my adult life.
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That idle thought remained dormant for awhile, until one day I thought back on this and realized the (also sports-related) phrases "double/triple play" might be similarly used, and off we went.
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CLEVELAND — Draymond Green, human megaphone and starting forward for the Golden State Warriors, thought back on Thursday to an instance earlier this season when his teammate Kevin Durant expressed frustration with his own level of play.
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In the reckoning over sexual harassment and assault in the workplace, and the #metoo solidarity that's followed, I've thought back on what I observed as far as predatory behavior while I was single-mindedly trying to be one of the guys.
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It's not just that it seemed, on the third visit, as you signed the clipboard, that you were a signatory to some insoluble time-sense, and that the duration of your visit would be a stasis of time that would forever play itself out in the revisiting of the situation from that particular point of time in relation to what happened later, and that would, in hindsight, seem marked, somehow, in relation to the way the hospital ward stood, even as you signed in, as a momentary, fleeting refuge from the wild torments of the outside world, the indelible real places—the old house on the river that had been empty since your brother's divorce, and the old art studio in the rehabilitated mill building where he had worked on his paintings, and the river itself, the shoreline down near the state park where he'd hiked with his son—that would when he thought back on them spark in him a need, a desire, to rehash his relationship with the chemicals that eased the pain they produced.
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Later, when Carr's officers and key civilians thought back on the events, they believed Sanchez was counting the soldiers when he rode down their column. As Sanchez rode back to the creek bottom, Hurrle told Carr that he was not heading in the right direction to go to his home. Carr then looked back and saw him riding toward the bottom. Carr thought he might be returning to the creek bottom to get some of his family or friends.
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