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.

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.

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.

Tell me the tales that to me were so dear,
Long, long ago, long, long ago.

Tell me the tales that to me were so dear,
Long, long ago, long, long ago.

The selective memory isn't selective enough.

The selective memory isn't selective enough.

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.

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.

But woe to him, who left to moan,
Reviews the hours of brightness gone.

But woe to him, who left to moan,
Reviews the hours of brightness gone.

The leaves of memory seemed to make A mournful rustling in the dark.

The leaves of memory seemed to make A mournful rustling in the dark.