If a man write little, he had need have a great memory; if he confer little, hehad need have a present wit; and if he read little he had need have much cunning, to seem to know that he doth not.
I bequeath my soul to God For my name and memory, I leave it to men's charitable speeches, and to foreign nations, and the next age.
For an actress to be a success she must have the face of Venus, the brains of Minerva, the grace of Terpsichore, thememoryof Macaulay, thefigure of Juno, and thehide of a rhinoceros.
L'amoureux qui n'oublie pas quelquefois meurt par exce' s, fatigue et tension de me moire (tel Werther). The lover who does not forget sometimes dies from excess, fatigue, and the strain of memory (like Werther).
Good music isthat whichpenetratesthe ear with facility and quits the memory with difficulty. Magical music never leaves the memory.
The camera relieves us of the burden of memory.
For to him that is joined to all the living there is hope: for a living dog isbetter thana dead lion.For the living know that they shall die: but the dead know not any thing, neither have they any more a reward; for the memory of them is forgotten.
'It's a poor sort of memory that only works backwards,' the Queen remarked.
I amyet what I am, none cares or knows; My friends forsake me like a memory lost: I am the self-consumer of my woes.
In plucking the fruit of memory one runs the risk of spoiling its bloom.
It is all very well to copy what you see; it is much better to draw what you see only in memory.
Par toi tout le bonheur que m'offre l'avenir Est dans mon souvenir. Through you, all the happiness that the future offers Is in my memory.
Was there ever in anyone's life span a point free in time, devoid of memory, a night when choice was any more than the sum of all the choices gone before?
Ce n'est que par la me moire que nous sommes un me" me individu pour les autres et pour nous-me" mes. Il ne me reste peut-e" tre pas, a' l'a" ge quej'ai, une seule mole cule du corps que j'apportai en naissant. It is only in memory that we are the same person for others and for ourselves. At the age I am now, there is probably not a single molecule of my body that I had when born.
Held in a lunar synthesis, Whispering lunar incantations Dissolve the floors of memory And all its clear relations Its divisions and precisions.
Midnight shakes the memory As a madman shakes a dead geranium.
April is the cruellest month, breeding Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing Memory and desire, stirring Dull roots with spring rain.
Footfalls echo in the memory Down the passage which we did not take Towards the door we never opened Into the rose-garden. My words echo Thus, in your mind.
This is the use of memory: For liberationnot less of love but expanding Of love beyond desire, and so liberation From the future as well as the past.
I have but one request to make at my departure from this world, it isthe charity of its silence. Let no man write my epitaph; for as no man who knows my motives, dare now vindicate them, let no prejudice or ignorance asperse them. Let them rest in obscurity and peace! Let my memory be left in oblivion, and my tomb remain uninscribed, until other times and other men can do justicetomycharacter.Whenmycountry takesher place among thenations of the earth, then, and not till then, let my epitaph be written.
The way you wear your hat, The way you sip your tea, The mem'ry of all that No, no! They can't take that away from me!
Of those four winters which I passed in Indo-China opium has left the happiest memory.
Las grandes bellezas de la creacio n no pueden a un tiempo ser vistas y cantadas: es necesario que vuelvan al alma empalidecidas por la memoria infiel. The most beautiful things on earth cannot be seen and sung at the same time: they must return to the soul weakened by unfaithful memory.
There is a wicked inclination in most people to suppose anoldmandecayed inhisintellects.Ifayoungor middle- aged man, when leaving a company, does not recollect where he laid his hat, it is nothing; but if the same inattention is discovered inanold man, people will shrug up their shoulders, and say,'His memory isgoing.'
I remember that the players have often mentioned it as an honour to Shakespeare that in his writing, whatsoever he penned, he never blotted out a line. My answer hath been,Would he had blotted a thousand: which they thought a malevolent speech[but] I loved themanand do honour hismemory, on thisside idolatry, as much as any.
'Tisn't beauty, so to speak, nor good talk necessarily. It's just It. Some women'll stay in a man's memory if they once walked down a street.
All habits are geared towards the linear, the sequential, but memory refuses such orderliness.
A thousand fantasies Begin to throng into my memory Of calling shapes, and beckoning shadows dire, And airy tongues, that syllable men's names On sands, and shores, and desert wildernesses.
Now conscience wakes despair That slumbered, wakes the bitter memory Of what he was, what is, and what must be Worse; of worse deeds worse sufferings must ensue.
If I be evil intreated, or sent away with a flea in mine ear, let him look that Iwill rail onhimsoundly; nor foranhour or a day, whiles the injury is fresh in my memory; but in some elaborate polished poem, which I will leave to the world when I am dead, to be a living image to all ages of his beggarly parsimony and ignoble illiberality.
Thanks for the Memory.
Come to me in the silence of the night; Come in the speaking silence of a dream; Come with soft rounded cheeks and eyes as bright As sunlight on a stream; Come back in tears, O memory, hope, love of finished years.
Life is not easy. I paint the memory of happiness.
You have no part with lads who fought And laughed and suffered at my side. Your fugues and symphonies have brought No memory of my friends who died.
Music when soft voices die, Vibrates in the memory Odours, when sweet violets sicken, Live within the sense they quicken.
[This] much curse I must send you, in the behalf of all poets, that while you live, you live in love, and never get favour for lacking skill of a sonnet, and, when you die, your memorydie fromthe earth for want of an epigraph.
Unless we change our ways and our direction, our greatness as a nation will soon be a footnote in the history books, a distant memory of an offshore island, lost in the mist of time like Camelot, remembered kindly for its noble past.
She was cut off fromthe past and therefore did not live in the present. But suddenly, as she stood close against a pine tree and breathed in its sharp, bitter scent, a clear space opened to her childhood, as though a wind had sprung fromthesea, clearing a mist.It wasnot a memory from the past, it was the past itself, as alive, as real; and she knew that she and the child of forty years ago were the same person.
Bankers'genes were Wall St. genes, especially in the big cities. If the banks were conservative just now , it was because bankers still awoke in the middle of the night, trembling and sweaty with thoughts of the Crash. But intimeanewgenerationwouldtake over: ambitious, overcompetitive young men to whom1929 would be merelya date on a page; such menwould sever theroots of memory as if with an ax, not realizing that those tendrils were also the rudder cables.
We seem but to linger in manhood to tell the dreams of our childhood, and they vanish out of memory ere we learn the language.
Theyare all gone into the world of light, And I alone sit lingering here; Their very memory is fair and bright, And my sad thoughts doth clear.
Time is the metre, memory the only plot.
No woman should have a memory. Memory in a woman is the beginning of dowdiness.
In memory everything seems to happen to music.
Life is all memory except for the one present moment that goes by you so quick you hardly catch it going.
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