To live in hearts we leave behind is not to die.
We have committed the Golden Rule to memory; let us now commit it to life.
He who has gone, so we but cherish his memory, abides with us, more potent, nay, more present than the living man.
I think it is all a matter of love: the more you love a memory, the stronger and stranger it is.
It's surprising how much memory is built around things unnoticed at the time.
Everybody needs his memories. They keep the wolf of insignificance from the door.
Life is possible only by the deficiencies of our imagination and memory.
Love leaves a memory nobody can take away from you.
As I look back now on my coaching career, I think of my family, I think of the days that we spent together. I say this to coaches everywhere: If you ever have a chance to take your kids with you, take them. Don't miss that opportunity. Because when it's all over and done with, when you look back, those are going to be your fondest memories.
Our lives are the sum of our memories. How much are we willing to lose from our already short lives by … not paying attention?
Praising what is lost makes the remembrance dear
Memories are the key not to the past, but to the future.
A memory is what is left when something happens and does not completely unhappen.
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?
I'm always fascinated by the way memory diffuses fact.
The memory is sometimes so retentive, so serviceable, so obedient-at others so bewildered and weak-and at others again, so tyrannic, so beyond control!
There are lots of people who mistake their imagination for their memory.
Hit a tripwire of smell and memories explode all at once. A complex vision leaps out of the undergrowth.
If any one faculty of our nature may be called more wonderful than the rest, I do think it is memory. There seems something more speakingly incomprehensible in the powers, the failures, the inequalities of memory, than in any other of our intelligences. The memory is sometimes so retentive, so serviceable, so obedient; at others, so bewildered and so weak; and at others again, so tyrannic, so beyond control! We are, to be sure, a miracle every way; but our powers of recollecting and of forgetting do seem peculiarly past finding out.
The darkest moments of our lives are not to be buried and forgotten, rather they are a memory to be called upon for inspiration to remind us of the unrelenting human spirit and our capacity to overcome the intolerable
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.
There are three side effects of acid: enhanced long-term memory, decreased short-term memory, and I forget the third.
Time heals nothing, it merely rearranges our memory.
A pleasure is full grown only when it is remembered. You are speaking, Hmán, as if pleasure were one thing and the memory another. It is all one thing.
The advantage of a bad memory is that one enjoys several times the same good things for the first time.
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