A man of great memory without learning hath a rock and a spindle and no staff to spin.

A man of great memory without learning hath a rock and a spindle and no staff to spin.

Lulled in the countless chambers of the brain, our thoughts are linked by many a hidden chain; awake but one, read more

Lulled in the countless chambers of the brain, our thoughts are linked by many a hidden chain; awake but one, and in, what myriads rise!

The life of the dead is placed in the memory of the living.
[Lat., Vita enim mortuorum in memoria read more

The life of the dead is placed in the memory of the living.
[Lat., Vita enim mortuorum in memoria vivorum est posita.]

Though sands be black and bitter black the sea,
Night lie before me and behind me night,
read more

Though sands be black and bitter black the sea,
Night lie before me and behind me night,
And God within far Heaven refuse to light
The consolation of the dawn for me,--
Between the shadowy burns of Heaven and Hell,
It is enough love leaves my soul to dwell
With memory.

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.

Do not trust your memory; it is a net full of holes; the most
beautiful prizes slip through it.

Do not trust your memory; it is a net full of holes; the most
beautiful prizes slip through it.

It's a pleasure to share one's memories. Everything remembered is dear, endearing, touching, precious. At least the past is safe read more

It's a pleasure to share one's memories. Everything remembered is dear, endearing, touching, precious. At least the past is safe --though we didn't know it at the time. We know it now. Because it's in the past; because we have survived.

Take only memories, leave nothing but footprints.

Take only memories, leave nothing but footprints.

But each day brings its petty dust our soon-choked souls to fill, and we forget because we must, and not read more

But each day brings its petty dust our soon-choked souls to fill, and we forget because we must, and not because we will.