Quotes About Memory

The unimaginable touch of Time.

The thought of our past years in me doth breed Perpetual benedictions.

What though the radiance that was once so bright, be now forever taken from my sight. Though nothing can bring back the hour of splendor in the grass, of glory in the flower; We will grieve not, rather find strength in what remains behind.

She Dwelt Among the Untrodden Ways She dwelt among the untrodden ways Beside the springs of Dove, A Maid whom there were none to praise And very few to love: A violet by a mossy stone Half hidden from the eye! —Fair as a star, when only one Is shining in the sky. She lived unknown, and few could know When Lucy ceased to be; But she is in her grave, and, oh, The difference to me!

Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting...

She died, and left to me This heath, this calm and quiet scene, The memory of what has been, And never more will be.

I listen'd, motionless and still; And, as I mounted up the hill, The music in my heart I bore, Long after it was heard no more.

My dear, dear Friend; and in thy voice I catch The language of my former heart, and read My former pleasures in the shooting lights Of thy wild eyes. Oh! yet a little while May I behold in thee what I was once…

But the sweet face of Lucy Gray Will never more be seen. The storm came on before its time: She wandered up and down; And many a hill did Lucy climb: But never reached the town.

I cannot paint what then I was.

Now, in this blank of things, a harmony, Home-felt, and home-created,comes to heal That grief for which the senses still supply Fresh food; for only then, when memory Is hushed, am I at rest. My Friends! restrain those busy cares that would allay my pain; Oh! Leave me to myself, nor let me feel The officious touch that makes me droop again.

Will no one tell me what she sings? Perhaps the plaintive numbers flow For old, unhappy, far-off things And battles long ago.

COMPARE) - Our birth is but a dream and a forgetting (Wordsworth) - ...so schläft er sehr rasch wieder ein, und schon nach vierundzwanzig Stunden ist es, als sei man niet weg gewesen und als sei die Reise der Traum einer Nacht. (Thomas Mann) - Thetis baptized her mortal son in Styx; A mortal mother would on Lethe fix. (Byron)

Men are we, and must grieve when even the Shade   Of that which once was great is pass'd away.

Though nothing can bring back the hour Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower; We will grieve not, rather find Strength in what remains behind; In the primal sympathy Which having been must ever be; In the soothing thoughts that spring Out of human suffering; In the faith that looks through death, In years that bring the philosophic mind.

What though the radiance which was once so bright Be now for ever taken from my sight, Though nothing can bring back the hour Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower, We will grieve not, rather find Strength in what remains behind;

We knew about the gas chambers. As soon as you arrived in Auschwitz, you knew about the gas chambers. How, I don't know. But we knew it. We saw that huge, black, smoky fire; we lived close by. We smelled the odor. You can never forget that.

they think the image must remain in their conscious view the whole time they're describing it. Not so. Even if the image flickers for a second and disappears, you can still keep describing it from memory, just as you described the Taj Mahal.

it is psychologically impossible to describe a person or object from memory without first forming a mental image of it

Research shows that when they confront a potentially unpleasant situation, such as some unfriendly faces at a gathering, these extraverts are apt to shift their attention rapidly around the room and zero in on amiable or neutral visages, thus short-circuiting the distressing images before they can get stored in memory.

If you would not be forgotten As soon as you are dead and rotten, Either write things worth reading, Or do things worth the writing.

Cada puesta en marcha requiere un esfuerzo, pues tienes que volver a revisar tu memoria. La multitarea tiene un precio, y a

"Not in vain" may be the pride of those who have survived and the epitaph of those who fell.

It is a good thing for an uneducated man to read books of quotations . . . The quotations when engraved upon the memory give you good thoughts.