In memory everything seems to happen to music.
Memory is a way of holding on to the things you love, the things you are, the things you never want to lose.
Memory is the perfume of the soul.
Memory is the power to revive again in our minds those ideas which after imprinting have disappeared, or have been laid aside out of sight.
The act of remembering is a constant recreation.
Memory is the scribe of the soul.
The past beats inside me like a second heart.
The life of the dead is placed in the memory of the living.
The more you leave out, the more you highlight what you leave in.
Memory is the mother of all wisdom.
It takes a minute to have a crush on someone, an hour to like someone, and a day to love someone... but it takes a lifetime to forget someone.
The only paradise is paradise lost.
There are no rules of architecture for a castle in the clouds.
The memories we make with our family is everything.
Memory is the cabinet of imagination, the treasury of reason, the registry of conscience, and the council-chamber of thought.
Memories are the key not to the past, but to the future.
Memory is the treasure house of the mind wherein the monuments thereof are kept and preserved.
The palest ink is better than the best memory.
Memory... is the diary that we all carry about with us.
To live in hearts we leave behind is not to die.