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.]

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.

A retentive memory may be a good thing, but the ability to forget is the true token of greatness.

A retentive memory may be a good thing, but the ability to forget is the true token of greatness.

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.

Forget those things that aren't worth remembering.

Forget those things that aren't worth remembering.

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.

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.

The best memory is that which forgets nothing, but injuries. Write kindness in marble and write injuries in the dust.

The best memory is that which forgets nothing, but injuries. Write kindness in marble and write injuries in the dust.

A man's real possession is his memory. In nothing else is he rich, in nothing else is he poor.

A man's real possession is his memory. In nothing else is he rich, in nothing else is he poor.