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 painful memories of the past will shape our future; the moments we cherish last forever in a beautiful array read more

The painful memories of the past will shape our future; the moments we cherish last forever in a beautiful array of remembrance.

I've never tried to block out the memories of the past, even though some are painful. I don't understand people read more

I've never tried to block out the memories of the past, even though some are painful. I don't understand people who hide from their past. Everything you live through helps to make you the person you are now.

Where'er I roam, whatever realms to see,
My heart untravelled, fondly turns to thee;
Still to my read more

Where'er I roam, whatever realms to see,
My heart untravelled, fondly turns to thee;
Still to my brother turns, with ceaseless pain,
And drags at each remove a lengthening chain.

What peaceful hours I once enjoy'd!
How sweet their memory still!
But they have left an aching read more

What peaceful hours I once enjoy'd!
How sweet their memory still!
But they have left an aching void
The world can never fill.

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.

Don't remember what you can infer.

Don't remember what you can infer.

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.

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?