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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.]
A clear conscience is usually the sign of a bad memory
A clear conscience is usually the sign of a bad memory
Memory is like an orgasm. It's a lot better if you don't have to fake it.
Memory is like an orgasm. It's a lot better if you don't have to fake it.
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.
Out of sighte, out of mynde.
Out of sighte, out of mynde.
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.
Always remember to slow down in life; live, breathe, and learn; take a look around you whenever you have time read more
Always remember to slow down in life; live, breathe, and learn; take a look around you whenever you have time and never forget everything and every person that has the least place within your heart.
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?
Oh, I have roamed o'er many lands,
And many friends I've met;
Not one fair scene or read more
Oh, I have roamed o'er many lands,
And many friends I've met;
Not one fair scene or kindly smile
Can this fond heart forget.
