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?
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Why is it that our memory is good enough to retain the least triviality that happens to us, and yet read more
Why is it that our memory is good enough to retain the least triviality that happens to us, and yet not good enough to recollect how often we have told it to the same person?
The difference between false memories and true ones is the same as for jewels: it is always the false ones read more
The difference between false memories and true ones is the same as for jewels: it is always the false ones that look the most real, the most brilliant.
Don't you remember, sweet Alice, Ben Bolt?
Sweet Alice, whose hair was so brown;
Who wept with read more
Don't you remember, sweet Alice, Ben Bolt?
Sweet Alice, whose hair was so brown;
Who wept with delight when you gave her a smile,
And trembl'd with fear at your frown!
No memory is ever alone; it's at the end of a trail of memories, a dozen trails that each have read more
No memory is ever alone; it's at the end of a trail of memories, a dozen trails that each have their own associations.
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!
Remembrances embellish life but forgetfulness alone makes it
possible.
[Fr., Les souvenirs embellissent la vie, l'oubli seul la read more
Remembrances embellish life but forgetfulness alone makes it
possible.
[Fr., Les souvenirs embellissent la vie, l'oubli seul la rend
possible.]
Forget those things that aren't worth remembering.
Forget those things that aren't worth remembering.
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.
A moment lasts all of a second, but the memory lives on forever.
A moment lasts all of a second, but the memory lives on forever.
