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.

Recollection is the only paradise from which we cannot be turned out.

Recollection is the only paradise from which we cannot be turned out.

The true art of memory is the art of attention.

The true art of memory is the art of attention.

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 secret of a good memory is attention, and attention to a subject depends upon our interest in it. We read more

The secret of a good memory is attention, and attention to a subject depends upon our interest in it. We rarely forget that which has made a deep impression on our minds.

of thought.

of thought.

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.

The selective memory isn't selective enough.

The selective memory isn't selective enough.

When promise and patience are wearing thin,
When endurance is almost driven in,
When our angels stand read more

When promise and patience are wearing thin,
When endurance is almost driven in,
When our angels stand in a waiting hush,
Remember the Marne and Ferdinand Foch.