Anything one is remembering is a repetition, but existing as a human being that is being, listening, and hearing is never repetition.

Pictures made in childhood are painted in bright hues.

Anyone who in discussion quotes authority uses his memory rather than his intellect.

There is no greater sorrow than to recall a happy time in the midst of wretchedness.

Memory is necessary for all operations of reasoning.

The true art of memory is the art of attention.

Some memories are realities, and are better than anything that can ever happen to one again.

Memory is a complicated thing, a relative to truth but not its twin.

Someone will remember us
I say
even in another time.

The charm, one might say the genius, of memory is that it is choosy, chancy, and temperamental: it rejects the edifying cathedral and indelibly photographs the small boy outside, chawing a hunk of melon in the dust.

God gave us memory so that we might have roses in December.

What is the worth of human life, unless it is woven into the life of our ancestors by the records of history?

One form of loneliness is to have a memory and no one to share it with.