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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?
Though sands be black and bitter black the sea,
Night lie before me and behind me night,
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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 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.]
He who is not very strong in memory should not meddle with lying.
He who is not very strong in memory should not meddle with lying.
Memory is not wisdom; idiots can by rote repeat volumes. Yet what is wisdom without memory?
Memory is not wisdom; idiots can by rote repeat volumes. Yet what is wisdom without memory?
A memory is what is left when something happens and does not completely unhappen.
A memory is what is left when something happens and does not completely unhappen.
Every man's memory is his private literature.
Every man's memory is his private literature.
The heart that truly loves never forgets.
The heart that truly loves never forgets.
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.
