Memory [is] like a purse,--if it be over-full that it cannot
shut, all will drop out of it. Take read more

Memory [is] like a purse,--if it be over-full that it cannot
shut, all will drop out of it. Take heed of a gluttonous
curiosity to feed on many things, lest the greediness of the
appetite of thy memory spoil the digestion thereof.

To be remembered after we are dead, is but poor recompense for being treated with contempt while we are living.

To be remembered after we are dead, is but poor recompense for being treated with contempt while we are living.

Our memory is like a shop in the window of which is exposed now one, now another photograph of the read more

Our memory is like a shop in the window of which is exposed now one, now another photograph of the same person. And as a rule the most recent exhibit remains for some time the only one to be seen.

What we learn with pleasure we never forget.

What we learn with pleasure we never forget.

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.

I do perceive that the old proverb be not alwaies trew, for I do
finde that the absence of read more

I do perceive that the old proverb be not alwaies trew, for I do
finde that the absence of my Nath, doth breeds in me the more
continuall remembrance of him.

I have short-term memory loss, though I like to think of it as Presidential eligibility.

I have short-term memory loss, though I like to think of it as Presidential eligibility.

Far from our eyes th' Enchanting Objects set,
Advantage by the friendly Distance get.

Far from our eyes th' Enchanting Objects set,
Advantage by the friendly Distance get.

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.