Quotes about Memory

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Memory moderates prosperity, decreases adversity, controls youth and delights old age.

Forget those things that aren't worth remembering.
Leftovers in their less visible form are called memories. Stored in the refrigerator of the mind and the cupboard of the heart.
Memory is like a purse, if it be over-full that it cannot shut, all will drop out of it. Take heed of a gluttonous curiosity to feed on many things, lest the greediness of the appetite of thy memory spoil the digestion thereof.
Memory depends very much on the perspicuity, regularity, and order of our thoughts. Many complain of the want of memory, when the defect is in the judgment; and others, by grasping at all, retain nothing.
We have all forgot more than we remember.
People may correctly remember the events of twenty years ago (a remarkable feat), but who remembers his fears, his disgusts, his tone of voice? It is like trying to bring back the weather of that time.
To be remembered after we are dead, is but poor recompense for being treated with contempt while we are living.
A man of great memory without learning hath a rock and a spindle and no staff to spin.
The true art of memory is the art of attention.
Remember, your prerogative is to govern, and not to serve the things of this world.
Human memory is a marvelous but fallacious instrument. The memories which lie within us are not carved in stone; not only do they tend to become erased as the years go by, but often they change, or even increase by incorporating extraneous features.
Why is our memory good enough to recall to the last detail things that have happened to us, yet not good enough to recall how often we have told them to the same person.
Memories are all we really own.
For the memory of love is sweet, though the love itself were in vain. And what I have lost of pleasure, assuage what I find of pain.
What we learn with pleasure we never forget.
The memory represents to us not what we choose but what it pleases.
What a wonderful faculty is memory! -- the most mysterious and inexplicable in the great riddle of life; that plastic tablet on which the Almighty registers with unerring fidelity the records of being, making it the depository of all our words, thoughts and deeds -- this faithful witness against us for good or evil.
He who has not a good memory should never take upon himself the trade of lying.
The selective memory isn't selective enough.
Memory is the only paradise from which we cannot be driven.
When one of these flashbacks was reported to me by a conscious patient, I was incredulous. For example, when a mother told me she was suddenly aware, as my electrode touched the cortex, of being in the kitchen listening to the voice of her little boy who was playing outside in the yard.
Lulled in the countless chambers of the brain, our thoughts are linked by many a hidden chain; awake but one, and in, what myriads rise!
One lives in the hope of becoming a memory.
That translucent alabaster of our memories.
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.
One lives in the world's memory only by what they have done in the world's behalf.
The palest ink lasts longer than the most retentive memory.
Memory always obeys the commands of the heart.
Paradoxically one of the greatest advantages of mind maps is that they are seldom needed again. The very act of constructing a map is itself so effective in fixing ideas in memory that very often a whole map can recalled without going back to it at all. A mind map is so strongly visual and uses so many of the natural functions of memory that frequently it can be simply read off in the mind's eye.
In endowing us with memory, nature has revealed to us a truth utterly unimaginable to the unreflective creation, the truth of immortality. The most ideal human passion is love, which is also the most absolute and animal and one of the most ephemeral.
Time -- our youth -- it never really goes, does it? It is all held in our minds.
Take only memories, leave nothing but footprints.
He is indebted to his memory for his jests and to his imagination for his facts.
Reminiscences make one feel so deliciously aged and sad.
A man's real possession is his memory. In nothing else is he rich, in nothing else is he poor.
Observation is an old man's memory.
Don't remember what you can infer.
The act of smelling something, anything, is remarkably like the act of thinking. Immediately at the moment of perception, you can feel the mind going to work, sending the odor around from place to place, setting off complex repertories through the brain, polling one center after another for signs of re recognition, for old memories and old connection.
Those who cannot remember the past will spend a lot of time looking for their cars in mall parking lots.

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