God gave us memory so that we might have roses in December.

God gave us memory so that we might have roses in December.

No memory is ever alone; it's at the end of a trail of memories, a dozen trails that each have read more

No memory is ever alone; it's at the end of a trail of memories, a dozen trails that each have their own associations.

There are. intangible realities which float near us, formless and without words; realities which no one has thought out, and read more

There are. intangible realities which float near us, formless and without words; realities which no one has thought out, and which are excluded for lack of interpreters.

The charm, one might say the genius of memory, is that it is choosy, chancy, and temperamental: it rejects the read more

The charm, one might say the genius of memory, is that it is choosy, chancy, and temperamental: it rejects the edifying cathedral and indelibly photographs the small boy outside, chewing a hunk of melon in the dust.

Thee anger, in which a person can hold,
Only shows the true fear with in!

Thee anger, in which a person can hold,
Only shows the true fear with in!

The best memory is that which forgets nothing, but injuries. Write kindness in marble and write injuries in the dust.

The best memory is that which forgets nothing, but injuries. Write kindness in marble and write injuries in the dust.

The way I see things, the way I see life, I see it as a struggle. And there's a great read more

The way I see things, the way I see life, I see it as a struggle. And there's a great deal of reward I have gained coming to that understanding -- that existence is a struggle.

Given that external reality is a fiction, the writer's role is almost superfluous. He does not need to invent the read more

Given that external reality is a fiction, the writer's role is almost superfluous. He does not need to invent the fiction because it is already there.

Every day you waste is one you can never make up.

Every day you waste is one you can never make up.