Quotes
Quotes about Memory
Like one
Who having into truth, by telling of it,
Made such a sinner of his memory,
To credit his own lie.
Memory, the warder of the brain.
Doct. Not so sick, my lord,
As she is troubled with thick-coming fancies,
That keep her from her rest.
Macb. Cure her of that.
Canst thou not minister to a mind diseas'd,
Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow,
Raze out the written troubles of the brain,
And with some sweet oblivious antidote
Cleanse the stuff'd bosom of that perilous stuff
Which weighs upon the heart?
Doct. Therein the patient
Must minister to himself.
Macb. Throw physic to the dogs: I 'll none of it.
The memory be green.
While memory holds a seat
In this distracted globe. Remember thee!
Yea, from the table of my memory
I 'll wipe away all trivial fond records.
There's hope a great man's memory may outlive his life half a year.
These are begot in the ventricle of memory, nourished in the womb of pia mater, and delivered upon the mellowing of occasion.
For my name and memory, I leave it to men's charitable speeches, to foreign nations, and to the next ages.
Cato said the best way to keep good acts in memory was to refresh them with new.
Now conscience wakes despair
That slumber'd,--wakes the bitter memory
Of what he was, what is, and what must be
Worse.
A thousand fantasies
Begin to throng into my memory,
Of calling shapes, and beck'ning shadows dire,
And airy tongues that syllable men's names
On sands and shores and desert wildernesses.
What needs my Shakespeare for his honour'd bones,--
The labour of an age in piled stones?
Or that his hallow'd relics should be hid
Under a star-y-pointing pyramid?
Dear son of memory, great heir of fame,
What need'st thou such weak witness of thy name?
Next o'er his books his eyes begin to roll,
In pleasing memory of all he stole.
Hawkesworth said of Johnson, "You have a memory that would convict any author of plagiarism in any court of literature in the world."
Time whereof the memory of man runneth not to the contrary.
What peaceful hours I once enjoy'd!
How sweet their memory still!
But they have left an aching void
The world can never fill.
Illiterate him, I say, quite from your memory.
The Right Honorable gentleman is indebted to his memory for his jests, and to his imagination for his facts.
To the memory of the Man, first in war, first in peace, and first in the hearts of his countrymen.
Sweet Memory! wafted by thy gentle gale,
Oft up the stream of Time I turn my sail.
Sweet Mercy! to the gates of heaven
This minstrel lead, his sins forgiven;
The rueful conflict, the heart riven
With vain endeavour,
And memory of Earth's bitter leaven
Effaced forever.
And when the stream
Which overflowed the soul was passed away,
A consciousness remained that it had left
Deposited upon the silent shore
Of memory images and precious thoughts
That shall not die, and cannot be destroyed.
Meek Walton's heavenly memory.
Still are the thoughts to memory dear.
Thus aged men, full loth and slow,
The vanities of life forego,
And count their youthful follies o'er,
Till Memory lends her light no more.
