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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 true art of memory is the art of attention.
The true art of memory is the art of attention.
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.
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.
What we learn with pleasure we never forget.
What we learn with pleasure we never forget.
The mother may forget the child
That smiles sae sweetly on her knee;
But I'll remember thee, read more
The mother may forget the child
That smiles sae sweetly on her knee;
But I'll remember thee, Glencairn,
And all that thou hast done for me!
Take only memories, leave nothing but footprints.
Take only memories, leave nothing but footprints.
Yet how much less it were to gain,
Though thou hast left me free,
The loveliest things read more
Yet how much less it were to gain,
Though thou hast left me free,
The loveliest things that still remain,
Than thus remember thee.
If I do not remember thee, let my tongue cleave to the roof of my
mouth; if I prefer read more
If I do not remember thee, let my tongue cleave to the roof of my
mouth; if I prefer not Jerusalem above my chief joy.
