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It is singular how soon we lose the impression of what ceases to be constantly before us. A year impairs, read more
It is singular how soon we lose the impression of what ceases to be constantly before us. A year impairs, a luster obliterates. There is little distinct left without an effort of memory, then indeed the lights are rekindled for a moment -- but who can be sure that the Imagination is not the torch-bearer?
Why is it that our memory is good enough to retain the least triviality that happens to us, and yet read more
Why is it that our memory is good enough to retain the least triviality that happens to us, and yet not good enough to recollect how often we have told it to the same person?
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.
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.
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.
The selective memory isn't selective enough.
The selective memory isn't selective enough.
Remembrance wakes with all her busy train,
Swells at my breast, and turns the past to pain.
Remembrance wakes with all her busy train,
Swells at my breast, and turns the past to pain.
No memory of having starred atones for later disregard, or keeps the end from being hard.
No memory of having starred atones for later disregard, or keeps the end from being hard.
A lot of people mistake a short memory for a clear conscience.
A lot of people mistake a short memory for a clear conscience.
