Quotes About Memory

Men more frequently require to be reminded than informed.

The true art of memory, is the art of attention

His comprehension is vast, his memory capacious and retentive, his discourse is methodical, and his expression clear.

The memory of useful things may receive considerable aid, if they are thrown into verse.Watts'sImprovement of the Mind. Your patrimonial stores in peace possess;Undoubted all your filial claim confess:Your private right should impious power invade,The peers of Ithaca would arm in aid.Pope'sOdyssey,b. i.2.

He discovered a great ambition to excel, which roused him to counteract his indolence. He was uncommonly inquisitive; and his memory was so tenacious, that he never forgot any thing that he either heard or read. Mr. Hector remembers having recited to him eighteen verses, which, after a little pause, he repeated verbatim, varying only one epithet, by which he improved the line.

Judgement, like other faculties, is improved by practice, and its advancement is hindered by submission to dictatorial decisions, as the memory grows torpid by the use of a table book.

They will very probably, by remembring past mistakes, avoid many inconveniencies into which forgetfulness will run you lively ones.

He affected to say some things, that, tho' trite, were sententious, and carried with them the air of observation. There is some degree of merit in having such a memory, as will help a person to repeat and apply other mens wit with some tolerable propriety. But when he attempted to walk alone, he said things that it was impossible a man of common sense could say.

How can palsied age, which is but a terrifying object to youth, expect the indulgence, the love, of the young and gay, if it does not study to promote those pleasures which itself was fond of in youth? Enjoy innocently your season, girls, once said she, setting half a score of us into country dances. I watch for the failure of my memory; and shall never give it over for quite lost, till I forget what were my own innocent wishes and delights in the days of my youth.

Hope is like the sun, which, as we journey towards it, casts the shadow of our burden behind us. ...Hope sweetens the memory of experiences well loved. It tempers our troubles to our growth and our strength. It befriends us in the dark hours, excites us in bright ones. It lends promise to the future and purpose to the past. It turns discouragement to determination. Samuel Smiles

Like cliffs which had been rent asunder; A dreary sea now flows between, But neither heat, nor frost, nor thunder, Shall wholly do away, I ween, The marks of that which once hath been.

To most men, experience is like the stern lights of a ship, which illumine only the track it has passed.

Graham. These three men took away my virginity

He'd been such a solid presence beside her, Strong, warm, vibrant. So different from that form beneath the sheet in the mougue

His eyes reconnected with hers, and she wondered if he remembered that they were an unusual shade of gray, which most people found arresting and which lying witnesses found disconcerting. When his gaze lowered

You know what a storyteller is, don't you? It's a person that has a good memory who hopes other people don't.

Sweet wine from Spain and gossip from France; the sun in the windows dimmed, sorrowed prettily as the day declined, until the candles' light was mirrored in the glass. Their dabbling flames were like guesses at a feeling, the hearth's fire like the feeling itself. It was a beautiful pastime she had missed; hours that had stepped light-footed on Emilia's memory and passed on.

I remember when my kitten got run over. My mother was devastated. She put it in a green garbage bag and cried and cried. She said she couldn't stop picturing that little cat. Tumbling and tumbling and tumbling.

I am indebted to the archivists

The pain of our history.

Pablo Escobar! Aún se deben estar riendo, si es que se acuerdan de mi respuesta. —Argelia, Albert Camus —dije.

Ella sólo quería una fotografía de su vida, como las que tenía de su padre y de su madre en su mesa de noche. Agradable, iluminada de un modo que suavice los ángulos más duros, distinguida.

Los nombres sirven para fingir que el tiempo no pasa y, al final, son lo único que queda de nosotros.

Solo hay una cosa que paraliza el tiempo. Solo hay un hecho que deja a sus protagonistas en el pasado para siempre