The wisest man I ever knew taught me something I never forgot. And although I never forgot it, I never quite memorized it either. So what I’m left with is the memory of having learned something very wise that I can’t quite remember.
George Carlin (1937-2008) American comedian
Book (1997), Brain Droppings, “Short Takes (Part 1)”
(Source)
Quotations about:
memory
Note not all quotations have been tagged, so Search may find additional quotes on this topic.
BATTY: I’ve seen things you people wouldn’t believe. Attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion. I watched C-beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhauser Gate. All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain. Time to die.
David Peoples (b. 1940) American screenwriter
Blade Runner (1982) [screenplay with Hampton Fancher]
(Source)
(Source (Video); dialog confirmed)
Roy Batty was played by Rutger Hauer. These lines are not in Philip K. Dick's source story, Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? (1968).
You never can tell what your thoughts may do,
In bringing you hate or love,
For thoughts are things, and their airy wings
Are swifter than carrier doves.
They follow the law of the universe —
Each thing must create its kind,
And they speed o’er the track to bring you back
Whatever went out of your mind.Ella Wheeler Wilcox (1850-1919) American author, poet, temperance advocate, spiritualist
Poem (1896), “You Never Can Tell,” st. 3, Custer and Other Poems
(Source)
In that part of the book of my memory before which little can be read, there is a heading, which says: “Incipit vita nova: Here begins the new life.”
[In quella parte del libro de la mia memoria dinanzi a la quale poco si potrebbe leggere, si trova una rubrica la quale dice: Incipit vita nova.]
Dante Alighieri (1265-1321) Italian poet
La Vita Nuova [Vita Nova; The New Life], ch. 1 (c. 1294, pub. 1576) [tr. Kline (2002)]
(Source)
Opening sentence of the work.
There is some scholarly disagreement as to whether the title means "the new life" or "the early life." Reynolds translates the Latin phrase here as "Here begins the period of my boyhood," as explained here. Most scholars prefer the "new life" interpretation, with some caveats.
(Source (Italian)). Alternate translations:In that part of the book of my memory before the which is little that can be read, there is a rubric, saying, Incipit Vita Nova.
[tr. Rossetti (c. 1847; 1899 ed.)]In that part of the book of my memory, anterior whereto is little that can be read, stands a rubric, which says : -- "Incipit Vita Nova. Here beginneth the New Life."
[tr. Martin (1862)]In that part of the book of my memory before which little can be read is found a rubric which says: Incipit Vita Nova [The New Life begins].
[tr. Norton (1867), "Proem"]In the book of my memory, after the first pages, which are almost blank, there is a section headed Incipit vita nova.
[tr. Reynolds (1969)]In that part of my book of memory before which there would be little to read is found a chapter heading which says: “Here begins the new life.”
[tr. Musa (1971)]In my Book of Memory, in the early part where there is little to be read, there comes a chapter with the rubric: Incipit vita nova.
[tr. Hollander (1997)]In that part of the book of my memory before which little may be read is found a rubric which says: "The new life begins."
[tr. Appelbaum (2006)]In the book of my memory -- the part of it before which not much is legible -- there is the heading Incipit vita nova.
[tr. Frisardi (2012)]
There is a poetic version of this opening sentence which I have not been able to source, but has become extremely popular in wedding vows and other pronouncements of love, and is usually presented as Dante's own work:In that book which is
My memory ...
On the first page
That is the chapter when
I first met you
Appear the words ...
"Here begins a new life."
Dante's first meeting with Beatrice (when he was nine years old) is described in the following paragraph, but is not part of this opening sentence. This chapter is also part of the prose portion of the work, not a poem.
Obviously the facts are never just coming at you but are incorporated by an imagination that is formed by your previous experience. Memories of the past are not memories of facts but memories of your imaginings of the facts.
Philip Roth (1933-2008) American novelist and short-story writer
The Facts: A Novelist’s Autobiography, Introductory Letter to Nathan Zuckerman (1988)
(Source)
Zuckerman was Roth's literary alter ego, and narrator of several of Roth's books.
It is very good to copy what one sees; it is much better to draw what you can’t see any more but is in your memory. It is a transformation in which imagination and memory work together. You only reproduce what struck you, that is to say the necessary. There your memories and your fantasy are freed from the tyranny exercised by nature.
[C’est très bien de copier ce qu’on voit, c’est beaucoup mieux de dessiner ce que l’on ne voit plus que dans son mémoire. C’est une transformation pendant laquelle l’ingéniosité collabore avec la mémoire. Vous ne reproduisez que ce qui vous a frappé, c’est-à-dire le nécessaire. Là, vos souvenirs et votre fantaisie sont libérés de la tyrannie qu’exerce la nature.]
Edgar Degas (1834-1917) French Impressionist artist [b. Hilaire-Germain-Edgar De Gas]
Quoted in Georges Jeanniot, “Souvenirs sur Degas [Memories of Degas],” La Revue Universelle (1933-10-15)
(Source)
The quotation is often cited to Maurice Sérullaz, L'univers de Degas (1979), but Sérullaz says he is requoting Degas from Swiss-French Impressionist painter Pierre-Georges Jeanniot.
I have no wish to remember everything. There are many things in most men’s lives that had better be forgotten. There is that time, many years ago, when we did not act quite as honorably, quite as uprightly, as we perhaps should have done — that unfortunate deviation from the path of strict probity we once committed, and in which, more unfortunate still, we were found out — that act of folly, of meanness, of wrong. Ah, well! we paid the penalty, suffered the maddening hours of vain remorse, the hot agony of shame, the scorn, perhaps, of those we loved. Let us forget.
Jerome K. Jerome (1859-1927) English writer, humorist [Jerome Klapka Jerome]
Idle Thoughts of an Idle Fellow, “On Memory” (1886)
(Source)
First published in Home Chimes (1885-09-26).
Parents lend children their experience and a vicarious memory; children endow their parents with a vicarious immortality.
George Santayana (1863-1952) Spanish-American poet and philosopher [Jorge Agustín Nicolás Ruíz de Santayana y Borrás]
The Life of Reason, “Reason in Society,” ch. 2 “The Family” (1905-06)
(Source)
Yes, it is the brightness, not the darkness, that we see when we look back. The sunshine casts no shadows on the past. The road that we have traversed stretches very fair behind us. We see not the sharp stones. We dwell but on the roses by the wayside, and the strong briers that stung us are, to our distant eyes, but gentle tendrils waving in the wind. God be thanked that it is so — that the ever-lengthening chain of memory has only pleasant links, and that the bitterness and sorrow of to-day are smiled at on the morrow.
Jerome K. Jerome (1859-1927) English writer, humorist [Jerome Klapka Jerome]
Idle Thoughts of an Idle Fellow, “On Memory” (1886)
(Source)
First published in Home Chimes (1885-09-26).
BALTHASAR: For slander lives upon succession,
Forever housèd where it gets possession.William Shakespeare (1564-1616) English dramatist and poet
Comedy of Errors, Act 3, sc. 1, l. 154ff (3.1.154-155) (1594)
(Source)
To Antipholus of Ephesus.
Life altogether is but a crumbling ruin when we turn to look behind: a shattered column here, where a massive portal stood; the broken shaft of a window to mark my lady’s bower; and a moldering heap of blackened stones where the glowing flames once leaped, and over all the tinted lichen and the ivy clinging green.
Jerome K. Jerome (1859-1927) English writer, humorist [Jerome Klapka Jerome]
Idle Thoughts of an Idle Fellow, “On Memory” (1886)
(Source)
First published in Home Chimes (1885-09-26).
Your memory is a monster; you forget — it doesn’t. It simply files things away. It keeps things for you, or hides things from you — and summons them to your recall with a will of its own. You think you have a memory; but it has you!
John Irving (b. 1942) American-Canadian novelist and screenwriter [b. John Wallace Blunt Jr.]
A Prayer for Owen Meany, ch. 1 “The Foul Ball” (1989)
(Source)
That is just the way with Memory; nothing that she brings to us is complete. She is a willful child; all her toys are broken. I remember tumbling into a huge dust-hole when a very small boy, but I have not the faintest recollection of ever getting out again; and if memory were all we had to trust to, I should be compelled to believe I was there still.
Jerome K. Jerome (1859-1927) English writer, humorist [Jerome Klapka Jerome]
Idle Thoughts of an Idle Fellow, “On Memory” (1886)
(Source)
First published in Home Chimes (1885-09-26).
And in truth, of course, I’m not just 60 — I’m twelve, I’m 23, I’m 37, I’m 42, I’m 18. I’m every age I’ve ever been. Depending on what day of the week it is and what the situation calls for at the moment.
[Und in Wahrheit bin ich natürlich nicht nur 60 – ich bin zwölf, ich bin 23, ich bin 37, ich bin 42, ich bin 18. Ich habe jedes Alter, das ich je gehabt habe. Je nachdem, welcher Wochentag ist und was die Situation gerade erfordert.]
William Martin "Billy" Joel (b. 1949) American singer, songwriter, pianist
“Ohne die Nazis hätte es Billy Joel nie gegeben,” Die Welt (2009-05-10)
This interview is published in German, but in it Joel comments he only knows a bit of the language (his father was a Jewish refugee from Germany before WW2), so it was likely conducted in English. The German version is from the article. The English version is from Wikiquote (source unknown), which titles the article "Without the Nazis, there wouldn't have been Billy Joel."
Within that heav’n which most receives His light
Was I, and saw such things as man nor knows
Nor skills to tell, returning from that height;
For when our intellect is drawing close
To its desire, its paths are so profound
That memory cannot follow where it goes.
Yet now, of that blest realm, whate’er is found
Here in my mind still treasured and possessed
Must set the strain for all my song to sound.
[Nel ciel che più de la sua luce prende
fu’ io, e vidi cose che ridire
né sa né può chi di là sù discende;
perché appressando sé al suo disire,
nostro intelletto si profonda tanto,
che dietro la memoria non può ire.
Veramente quant’io del regno santo
ne la mia mente potei far tesoro,
sarà ora materia del mio canto.]Dante Alighieri (1265-1321) Italian poet
The Divine Comedy [Divina Commedia], Book 3 “Paradiso,” Canto 1, l. 4ff (1.4-12) (1320) [tr. Sayers/Reynolds (1962)]
(Source)
Dante breaks the fourth wall again, to apologize for how little he can remember of the ineffable glories of Heaven (which works out to an entire book's worth).
(Source (Italian)). Alternate translations:In daring drains
I sing, admitted to the lofty fanes,
Fill'd with the Glory of th' Eternal One.
There saw I things beyond Creation's bourne.
Which none who from her flaming bounds return
Can tell, when soaring Thought is launch'd so far
In Being's vast Abyss, that Mem'ry fails.
Nor dares pursue, altho' with crowded sails
She tries the Voyage o'er th' eternal Bar.
But some small remnant of that heav'nly Spoil,
From that strange Voyage won with arduous toil,
To her dear native soil, the Muse shall bear.
[tr. Boyd (1802), st. 1-3]In heav’n,
That largeliest of his light partakes, was I,
Witness of things, which to relate again
Surpasseth power of him who comes from thence;
For that, so near approaching its desire
Our intellect is to such depth absorb’d,
That memory cannot follow. Nathless all,
That in my thoughts I of that sacred realm
Could store, shall now be matter of my song.
[tr. Cary (1814)]In heaven, that drinks the deepest of the light,
Was I, and saw what to recount to sense
He knows not how, nor can, who comes from thence;
Because, approaching nearer its desire,
Dives intellect to such a depth profound
That memory fails, and cannot go beyond
In truth of that dominion's power, whate'er
I can find room to treasure in my mind,
Be now the subject in my song enshrined.
[tr. Bannerman (1850)]Within that heaven which most his light receives
Was I, and things beheld which to repeat
Nor knows, nor can, who from above descends;
Because in drawing near to its desire
Our intellect ingulphs itself so far,
That after it the memory cannot go.
Truly whatever of the holy realm
I had the power to treasure in my mind
Shall now become the subject of my song.
[tr. Longfellow (1867)]In the heaven which receives most of His light was I, and I beheld things which whoso descends thence has neither knowledge nor power to tell again, seeing that as it draws near to its desire our understanding plunges so deep, that the memory cannot go after it. Howbeit, so much of the holy realm as I could treasure up within my mind shall now be matter for my lay.
[tr. Butler (1885)]In the sky which most partaketh of his light
Was I, and things I saw, which to repeat
Knows not, and cannot whoe'er leaves that height.
Because approaching to its yearned-for seat
The intellect deep diveth there so long
That memory behind it cannot fleet.
Of what to the holy kingdom doth belong
Which I had power to treasure in my mind,
Truly shall now be subject of my song.
[tr. Minchin (1885)]In the heaven that receives most of its light I have been, and have seen things which he who descends from thereabove neither knows how nor is able to recount; because, drawing near to its own desire, our understanding enters so deep, that the memory cannot follow. Truly whatever of the Holy Realm I could treasure up in my mind shall now be the theme of my song.
[tr. Norton (1892)]In that heaven which most receiveth of his light, have I been ; and have seen things which whoso descendeth from up there hath nor knowledge nor power to re-tell;
because, as it draweth nigh to its desire, our intellect sinketh so deep, that memory cannot go back upon the track.
Nathless, whatever of the holy realm I had the power to treasure in my memory, shall now be matter of my song.
[tr. Wicksteed (1899)]I was in the heaven that most receives His light and I saw things which he that descends from it has not the knowledge or the power to tell again; for our intellect, drawing near to its desire, sinks so deep that memory cannot follow it. Nevertheless, so much of the holy kingdom as I was able to treasure in my mind shall now be matter of my song.
[tr. Sinclair (1939)]In that heaven which partakes most of His light
I have been, and have beheld such things as who
Comes down thence has no wit nor power to write;
Such depth our understanding deepens to
When it draws near unto its longing's home
That memory cannot backward with it go.
Nevertheless what of the blest kingdom
Could in my memory, for its treasure, stray
Shall now the matter of my song become.
[tr. Binyon (1943)]I have been in that Heaven of His most light,
and what I saw, those who descend from there
lack both the knowledge and the power to write.
For as our intellect draws near its goal
it opens to such depths of understanding
as memory cannot plumb within the soul.
Nevertheless, whatever portion time
still leaves me of the treasure of that kingdom
shall now become the subject of my rhyme.
[tr. Ciardi (1970)]I have been in the heaven that most receives of his light, and have seen things which whoso descends from up there has niehter the knowledge nor the power to relate, because, as draws near to its desire, our intellect enters so deep that memory cannot go back upon the track. Nevertheless, so much of the holy kingdom as I could treasure up in my mind shall now be the matter of my song.
[tr. Singleton (1975)]I have been in the heaven which takes most of his light,
And I have seen things which cannot be told,
Possibly, by anyone who comes down from up there;
Because, approaching the object of its desires,
Our intellect is so deeply absorbed
That memory cannot follow it all the way.
Nevertheless, what I was able to store up
Of that holy kingdom, in my mind,
Will now be the matter of my poem.
[tr. Sisson (1981)]I was within the heaven that receives more
of His light; and I saw things that he
who from that height descends, forgets or can
not speak; for nearing its desired end,
our intellect sinks into an abyss
so deep that memory fails to follow it.
Nevertheless, as much as I, within
my mind, could treasure of the holy kingdom
shall now become the matter of my song.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1984)]I have been in His brightest shining heaven
and seen such things that no man, once returned
from there, has wit or skill to tell about;
for when our intellect draws near its goal
and fathoms to the depths of its desire,
the memory is powerless to follow;
but still, as much of Heaven’s holy realm
as I could store and treasure in my mind
shall now become the subject of my song.
[tr. Musa (1984)]In the heaven that receives most of his light have I been, and I have seen things that one who comes down from there cannot remember and cannot utter,
for as it draws near to its desire, our intellect goes so deep that the memory cannot follow it.
Nevertheless, as much of the holy kingdom as I was able to treasure up in my mind will now become the matter of my song.
[tr. Durling (2011)]I have been in that Heaven that knows his light most, and have seen things, which whoever descends from there has neither power, nor knowledge, to relate: because as our intellect draws near to its desire, it reaches such depths that memory cannot go back along the track.
Nevertheless, whatever, of the sacred regions, I had power to treasure in my mind, will now be the subject of my labour.
[tr. Kline (2002)]High in that sphere which takes from Him most light
I was -- I was! -- and saw things there that no one
who descends knows how or ever can repeat.
For, drawing near to what it most desires,
our intellect so sinks into the deep
no memory can follow it that far.
As much, though, truly of that holy realm
as I could keep as treasure in my mind
will now become the substance of my song.
[tr. Kirkpatrick (2007)]I was in that heaven which receives
more of His light. He who comes down from there
can neither know nor tell what he has seen,
for, drawing near to its desire,
so deeply is our intellect immersed
that memory cannot follow after it.
Nevertheless, as much of the holy kingdom
as I could store as treasure in my mind
shall now become the subject of my song.
[tr. Hollander/Hollander (2007)]And though I saw where most of His brightness falls,
What I have seen cannot be represented
Here, for those who have entered Heaven, and descended,
Have come so close to what our minds desire
They sink far in, and bury their knowledge, their power,
So deep that memory cannot recover
A thing. But I will try, truly, to present
Whatever remains in my mind of that holy kingdom
And make it the substance of this song I will sing.
[tr. Raffel (2010)]I was in the heaven that gets more of its rays
And saw things that those who come down
From on high can’t grasp or else can’t say,
Because nearing what one wants,
Our intellect is so overcome
That our memory is left behind.
Even so, as much of the Holy Kingdom
As my mind could hold on to
Will now be the subject of my song.
[tr. Bang (2021)]
I am old now, or at least, I am no longer young, and everything I see reminds me of something else I’ve seen, such that I see nothing for the first time. A bonny girl, her hair fiery red, reminds me only of another hundred such lasses, and their mothers, and what they were as they grew, and what they looked like when they died. It is the curse of age, that all things are reflections of other things.
Neil Gaiman (b. 1960) British author, screenwriter, fabulist
“The Truth Is a Cave in the Black Mountains …”, Trigger Warning (2015)
(Source)
You are always new. The last of your kisses was ever the sweetest; the last smile the brightest; the last movement the gracefullest.
I want to visit Memory Lane, I don’t want to live there.
Letty Cottin Pogrebin (b. 1939) American author, journalist, lecturer, social activist
Deborah, Golda, and Me, ch. 1 (1991)
(Source)
Perhaps being old is having lighted rooms
Inside your head, and having people in them, acting.
People you know, yet can’t quite name.Philip Larkin (1922-1985) English poet, novelist, librarian
“The Old Fools,” High Windows (1974)
(Source)
Strephon kissed me in the spring,
Robin in the fall,
But Colin only looked at me
And never kissed at all.Strephon’s kiss was lost in jest,
Robin’s lost in play,
But the kiss in Colin’s eyes
Haunts me night and day.
Just as eating contrary to the inclination is injurious to the health, study without desire spoils the memory, and it retains nothing that it takes in.
Leonardo da Vinci (1452-1519) Italian artist, engineer, scientist, polymath
MS. 2038, Bib. Nat. 34 r. [tr. McCurdy (1908)]
(Source)
Why is it that we remember with effort but forget without effort? That we learn with effort but stay ignorant without effort? That we are active with effort, and lazy without effort?
[Quid est enim, quod cum labore meminimus, sine labore obliuiscimur; cum labore discimus, sine labore nescimus; cum labore strenui, sine labore inertes sumus?]Augustine of Hippo (354-430) Christian church father, philosopher, saint [b. Aurelius Augustinus]
City of God [De Civitate Dei], Book 22, ch. 22 (22.22) (AD 412-416) [tr. Green (Loeb) (1972)]
(Source)
(Source (Latin)). Alternate translations:What is our labour to remember things, our labour to learn, and our ignorance without this labour? our agility got by toil, and our dullness if we neglect it?
[tr. Healey (1610)]For why is it that we remember with difficulty, and without difficulty forget? learn with difficulty, and without difficulty remain ignorant? are diligent with difficulty, and without difficulty are indolent?
[tr. Dods (1871)]How difficult it is to remember, how easy to forget; how hard to learn and how easy to be ignorant; how difficult to make an effort and how easy to be lazy.
[tr. Walsh/Honan (1954)]How is it that what we learn with toil we forget with ease? that it is hard to learn, but easy to be in ignorance? That activity goes against the grain, while indolence is second nature?
[tr. Bettenson (1972)]Why is it that we remember with such difficulty, but forget so easily? Why is it that we learn with such difficulty, yet so easily remain ignorant? Why is it that we are vigorous with such difficulty, yet so easily inert?
[tr. Dyson (1998)]
We hear only half of what is said to us, understand only half of that, believe only half of that, and remember only half of that.
Mignon McLaughlin (1913-1983) American journalist and author
The Neurotic’s Notebook, ch. 5 (1963)
(Source)
Childhood is a thing that happens so early you don’t forget it. Everything else you grow out of, but you never recover from childhood.
Beryl Bainbridge (1932-2010) English novelist
“Beryl Bainbridge and Her Tenth Novel,” interview by Willa Petschek, New York Times (1981-03-01)
(Source)
So, like a forgotten fire, a childhood can always flare up again within us.
Gaston Bachelard (1884-1962) French philosopher.
The Poetics of Reverie, ch. 3 “Reveries Toward Childhood,” sec. 2 (1969)
(Source)
So gleams the past, the light of other days,
Which shines, but warms not with its powerless rays.George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
“Sun of the Sleepless!” Hebrew Melodies (1815)
(Source)
Today a man is here; tomorrow he is gone. And when he is out of sight, he is soon out of mind.
[Hodie homo est, et cras non comparet. Cum autem sublatus fuerit ab oculis, etiam cito transit a mente.]
Thomas à Kempis (c. 1380-1471) German-Dutch priest, author
The Imitation of Christ [De Imitatione Christi], Book 1, ch. 23, v. 1 (1.23.1) (c. 1418-27) [tr. Sherley-Price (1952)]
(Source)
(Source (Latin)). Alternate translations:For the common proverb is true: To-day a man , to-morrow none. And when thou art taken out of sight, thou art anon out of mind, and soon shalt thou be forgotten.
[tr. Whitford/Raynal (1530/1871)]For the common proverb is true: Today a man; tomorrow none. When you are out of sight you are soon out of mind, and soon will be forgotten.
[tr. Whitford/Gardiner (1530/1955)]To day a man, tomorrow none, and out of sight, out of mind.
[tr. Page (1639)]To Day the Man is vigorous, and gay, and flourishing, and to Morrow he is cut down, withered and gone. A very little time carries him out of our Sight, and a very little more out of our Remembrance.
[tr. Stanhope (1696; 1706 ed.)]To-day man is, and to-morrow he is not seen; And when he is once removed from the fight of others, he soon passeth from their remembrance.
[tr. Payne (1803)]To-day the man is here; to-morrow he hath disappeared. And when he is out of sight, quickly also is he out of mind.
[ed. Parker (1841)]Man is here to-day, and gone to-morrow: and when once removed from sight, soon perishes from remembrance.
[tr. Dibdin (1851)]A man is here to-day, and to-morrow he is no longer seen. And when he is taken away from the sight, he is also quickly out of mind.
[ed. Bagster (1860)]To-day man is, and to-morrow he will be seen no more. And being removed out of sight, quickly also he is out of mind.
[tr. Benham (1874)]To-day we are here, to-morrow we disappear, and when we are gone, quickly also we are out of mind.
[tr. Anon. (1901)]Today we live; tomorrow we die and are quickly forgotten.
[tr. Croft/Bolton (1940)]Today man is; and tomorrow he has vanished. But when he is taken out of sight he also soon passes out of mind.
[tr. Daplyn (1952)]Here man is today; tomorrow, he is lost to view; and once a man is out of sight, it's not long before he passes out of mind.
[tr. Knox-Oakley (1959)]A man is here today and gone tomorrow, and once he is out of our sight it is not long before he is out of our minds as well.
[tr. Knott (1962)]Today a man is and tomorrow he is gone. When he has been removed from our sight he is soon out of mind as well.
[tr. Rooney (1979)]Today we are, and tomorrow we are gone. And when we are taken out of sight, we soon pass out of mind.
[tr. Creasy (1989)]
Those were great old days, (but darn it any old days are great old days. Even the tough ones, after they are over, you can look back with great memories.)
“Is it true that your life passes before your eyes before you die?”
YES.
“Ghastly thought, really.” Rincewind shuddered. “Oh, gods, I’ve just had another one. Suppose I am about to die and this is my whole life passing in front of my eyes?”
I THINK PERHAPS YOU DO NOT UNDERSTAND. PEOPLE’S WHOLE LIVES DO PASS IN FRONT OF THEIR EYES BEFORE THEY DIE. THE PROCESS IS CALLED “LIVING.”Terry Pratchett (1948-2015) English author
The Last Continent [Death and Rincewind] (1999)
(Source)
Variants and paraphrases:It is often said that before you die your life passes before your eyes. It is in fact true. It's called living.It is said that your life flashes before your eyes just before you die. That is true, it’s called Life.
Try as we will, we cannot honestly recall our youth, for we have lost the feel of its main ingredient: suspense.
Mignon McLaughlin (1913-1983) American journalist and author
The Neurotic’s Notebook, ch. 3 (1963)
(Source)
Princes like to be helped, but not surpassed. When you counsel someone, you should appear to be reminding him of something he had forgotten, not of the light he was unable to see.
[Gustan de ser ayudados los príncipes, pero no excedidos, y que el aviso haga antes viso de recuerdo de lo que olvidaba que de luz de lo que no alcanzó.]
Baltasar Gracián y Morales (1601-1658) Spanish Jesuit priest, writer, philosopher
The Art of Worldly Wisdom [Oráculo Manual y Arte de Prudencia], § 7 (1647) [tr. Maurer (1992)]
(Source)
(Source (Spanish)). Alternate translations:Princes are willing to be assisted, but not surpassed. Those who advise them ought to speak as if they put them in mind of what they forgot, and not as teaching them what they knew not.
[Flesher ed. (1685)]They [princes] will allow a man to help them but not to surpass them, and will have any advice tendered them appear like a recollection of something they have forgotten rather than as a guide to something they cannot find.
[tr. Jacobs (1892)]They [kings] may abide being helped, but not surpassed, wherefore let advice given them appear more a jog to what they forgot, than a light to what they could not find.
[tr. Fischer (1937)]
I don’t think about whether people will remember me or not. I’ve been an okay person. I’ve learned a lot. I’ve taught people a thing or two. That’s what’s important. Sooner or later the public will forget you, the memory of you will fade. What’s important are the individuals you’ve influenced along the way.
We hear only half of what is said to us, understand only half of that, believe only half of that, and remember only half of that.
Mignon McLaughlin (1913-1983) American journalist and author
The Neurotic’s Notebook, ch. 5 (1963)
(Source)
Memory is a crazy woman that hoards colored rags and throws away food.
Austin O'Malley (1858-1932) American ophthalmologist, professor of literature, aphorist
Keystones of Thought (1914)
(Source)
Let us learn from the lips of death the lessons of life. Let us live truly while we live, live for what is true and good and lasting. And let the memory of our dead help us to do this. For they are not wholly separated from us, if we remain loyal to them. In spirit they are with us. And we may think of them as silent, invisible, but real presences in our households.
Felix Adler (1851-1933) German-American educator
Life and Destiny, Lecture 8 “Suffering and Consolation” (1903)
(Source)
The fact I asked you last night
To come round this evening and dine,
Procillus, would seem to be due
To that fifth or sixth bottle of wine.
To think it entirely arranged
And take notes on the nonsense you hear
Is a hazardous way to behave —
D–n a drinker whose memory’s clear![Hesterna tibi nocte dixeramus,
Quincunces puto post decem peractos,
Cenares hodie, Procille, mecum.
Tu factam tibi rem statim putasti
Et non sobria verba subnotasti
Exemplo nimium periculoso:
Μισῶ μνάμονα συμπόταν, Procille.]Martial (AD c.39-c.103) Spanish Roman poet, satirist, epigrammatist [Marcus Valerius Martialis]
Epigrams [Epigrammata], Book 1, epigram 27 (1.27) (AD 85-86) [tr. Nixon (1911), “A Alleybi’s the Thing”]
(Source)
"To Procillus." The Greek phrase, attested to elsewhere in Classical literature, reads, as variously translated here, "I dislike a drinking companion who remembers."
(Source (Latin)). Alternate translations:I had this day carroust the thirteenth cup,
And was both slipper-tong'd, and idle-brain'd,
And said by chance, that you with me should sup.
You thought hereby, a supper cleerely gain'd:
And in your Tables you did quote it up.
Uncivill ghest, that hath been so ill train'd!
Worthy thou are hence supperlesse to walke,
That tak'st advantage of our Table-talke.
[tr. Harington (fl. c. 1600)]To sup with me, to thee I did propound,
But 'twas when our full cups had oft gone round.
The thing thou straight concludest to be done,
Merry and sober words counting all one.
Th' example's dangerous at the highest rate;
A memorative drunkard all men hate.
[tr. Killigrew (1695)]Yesternight, it seems, I swore,
Fifty bumpers hardly o'er,
You should sup tonight with me;
Instant you devour'd the glee;
And would bind the words of drink:
Dang'rous precedent, I think.
Wofull partner of the bowl,
Proves a reminiscent soul.
[tr. Elphinston (1782), Book 7, ep. 17]Last night I had invited you -- after some fifty glasses, I suppose, had been despatched -- to sup with me today. You immediately thought your fortune was made, and took note of my unsober words, with a precedent but too dangerous. I hate a boon companion whose memory is good, Procillus.
[tr. Bohn's Classical (1859)]Last night I said to you (I think it was after I had got through ten half-pints): "Dine with me today, Procillus." You at once thought the matter settled for you, and took secret note of my unsober remark -- a precedent too dangerous! "I hate a messmate with a memory," Procillus.
[tr. Ker (1919)]I may have asked you here to dine,
But that was late at night,
And none of us had spared the wine
If I remember right.
You thought the invitation meant,
Though wine obscured my wit!
And -- O most parous precedent --
You made a note of it!
The maxim that in Greece was true
Is true in Rome today --
"I hate a fellow-toper who
Remembers what I say."
[tr. Pott & Wright (1921), "'Tis Wise to Forget"]After ten cups were put away
I said, "Procillus," yesterday,
"You'll dine with me, my friend, you're wanted."
You promptly took the thing for granted
And made a note without formality
Of my incautious hospitality;
A dangerous precedent to set;
I hate a guest who won't forget.
[tr. Francis & Tatum (1924), #16]Last night I said, while feeling fine,
Having drunk much too much wine,
That you must promise, when this way,
To stop and dine with me some day.
You made a mental note of it,
A practice which, I must admit --
Taking me at my drunken word! --
Is dangerous and quite absurds.
Barroom promises are fine,
But he who keeps them is a swine!
[tr. Marcellino (1968)]Last night in my cups,
or my brandy tumbler, at least,
I asked you for dinner today.
But you took me seriously, Procillus,
and noted down carefully the words I spouted
under the influence. A dangerous business.
I don't like to drink with people who remember.
[tr. Bovie (1970)]Last night, after five pints of wine,
I said, "Procillus, come and dine
Tomorrow." You assumed I meant
What I said (a dangerous precedent)
And slyly jotted down a note
Of my drunk offer. Let me quote
A proverb from the Greek: "I hate
An unforgetful drinking mate."
[tr. Michie (1972)]Last night when I was carried off with wine
I made you promise to drop by and dine
With me today. Only a fool or a turd
Expects a drunken man to keep his word.
[tr. O'Connell (1991), "Bummer"]Last night after getting through four pints or so I asked you to dine with me this evening, Procillus. You thought you had the matter settled then and there, and made a mental note of my tipsy words -- a very dangerous precedent. I don't like a boozing partner with a memory, Procillus.
[tr. Shackleton Bailey (1993)]When drinks I had beyond my number,
I thought I would myself encumber
With a pledge to give you lunch today.
You wrote it down with great display
As if to register disputed votes.
I hate a tippler taking notes.
[tr. Wills (2007)]Last night, Procillus, after I had drunk
four pints or so, I asked if you would dine
with me today. At once, you thought the matter
was settled, based on statements blurred by wine --
a risky precedent. Good memory
is odious in one who drinks with me.
[tr. McLean (2014)]Last night I invited you,
after we killed, what, fifty-something cups,
to come and eat some food with me today.
Right then and there you thought the thing was done
and took me at my not-so-sober word.
A very risky thing to do: I hate
a drinking bud whose memory is good.
[tr. Goldman (2022)]
Life brings no greater grief
Than happiness remembered in a time
Of sorrow.[Nessun maggior dolore
Che ricordarsi del tempo felice
Ne la miseria.]Dante Alighieri (1265-1321) Italian poet
The Divine Comedy [Divina Commedia], Book 1 “Inferno,” Canto 5, l. 121ff (5.121-123) [Francesca] (1309) [tr. James (2013), l. 141ff]
(Source)
Francesca de Rimini is responding to Dante's request to speak of her love affair while in the middle of being punished for it. It is a true (if slanted) tale that occurred when Dante was a young man. Francesca da Polenta wed the crippled Giovanni Malatesta de Rimini, but fell in adulterous love with his brother, Paolo. Upon discovery of their affair, Giovanni killed them both. This was a local scandal, and would have been lost to time if Dante had not recorded it here. He relegates the lovers to the "least" eternal punishment in Hell, in the circle of carnal sins -- while Giovanni (who was still alive when this was written) is doomed to a lower circle for the murder (treachery to kindred). (More info.)
Inspiration for this particular phrase has been credited to many sources: Wisdom 11:11-12, Boethius (Consolation of Philosophy, 2.4.3-6), and Pindar (Pythian 4.510-512) are the most common. Augustine (Confessions 10.14) and Thomas Aquinas have also been cited.
(Source (Italian)). Alternate translations:No greater grief assails us [...]
Than in unhappy hours to recollect
A better time.
[tr. Rogers (1782)]Oh! how grievous to relate
Past joys, and tread again the paths of fate.
[tr. Boyd (1802), st. 23]No greater grief than to remember days
Of joy, when mis'ry is at hand!
[tr. Cary (1814)]No keener pang hath hell.
Than to recall, amid some deep distress,
Our happier time.
[tr. Dayman (1843)]There is no greater pain than to recall a happy time in wretchedness.
[tr. Carlyle (1849)]There is no greater grief
Than to remember happiness in woe.
[tr. Bannerman (1850)]No greater grief than this,
Mem'ry to hold of the past happy time
In misery.
[tr. Johnston (1867)]There is no greater sorrow
Than to be mindful of the happy time
In misery.
[tr. Longfellow (1867)]No greater woe is there than to call to mind the happy time in your misery.
[tr. Butler (1885)]There is no greater grief
Than to remember us of happy time
In misery.
[tr. Minchin (1885)]There is no greater woe than in misery to remember the happy time.
[tr. Norton (1892)]No deeper sorrow is, than to recall a time of happiness, in misery's hour.
[tr. Sullivan (1893)]There is no greater sorrow
Than to recall to memory times of gladness
In misery.
[tr. Griffith (1908)]There is no greater pain than to recall the happy time in misery.
[tr. Sinclair (1939)]No grief surpasses this [...]
In the midst of misery to remember bliss.
[tr. Binyon (1943)]The bitterest woe of woes
Is to remember in our wretchedness
Old happy times.
[tr. Sayers (1949)]The double grief of a lost bliss
is to recall its happy hour in pain.
[tr. Ciardi (1954), ll. 118-19]There is no greater sorrow than to recall, in wretchedness, the happy time.
[tr. Singleton (1970)]There is no greater pain
than to remember, in our present grief,
past happiness!
[tr. Musa (1971)]There is no greater sorrow
than thinking back upon a happy time
in misery.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1980)]There is no greater sorrow
Than to think backwards to a happy time,
When one is miserable.
[tr. Sisson (1981)]No sadness
Is greater than in misery to rehearse
Memories of joy.
[tr. Pinsky (1994), l. 107ff]There is no greater pain than to remember the happy time in wretchedness.
[tr. Durling (1996)]There is no greater pain, than to remember happy times in misery.
[tr. Kline (2002)]There is no greater pain, I fear,
than to recall past joy in present hell.
[tr. Carson (2002)]There is no sorrow greater
than, in times of misery, to hold at heart
the memory of happiness.
[tr. Kirkpatrick (2006)]There is no greater sorrow
than to recall our time of joy
in wretchedness.
[tr. Hollander/Hollander (2007)]No sadness afflicts the heart
More than recalling, in times of utter disaster,
Sweetened days in which we knew no darkness.
[tr. Raffel (2010)]What's sadder than remembering
The happy past when you're feeling wretched?
[tr. Bang (2012)]
Few people remember having been young, and how hard they found it to be chaste and sober.
[Peu de gens se souviennent d’avoir été jeunes, et combien il leur était difficile d’être chastes et tempérants.]
Jean de La Bruyère (1645-1696) French essayist, moralist
The Characters [Les Caractères], ch. 11 “Of Mankind [De l’Homme],” § 112 (11.112) (1688) [tr. Stewart (1970)]
(Source)
(Source (French)). Alternate translations:Few people remember that they have been young, and how hard it was then to live chaste and temperate.
[Bullord ed. (1696)]Few People remember they have been Young, and how hard it was then to live Chaste and Temperate.
[Curll ed. (1713)]Few remember that they have been young, and how hard it was then to live chaste and temperate.
[Browne ed. (1752)]Few men remember that they have been young, and how hard it was then to live chaste and temperate.
[tr. Van Laun (1885)]
Not anything is more responsible for the good old days than the fact that the grownups of one generation always remember the world as it looked to them in their young days, not as it looked to their elders.
Marcelene Cox (1900-1998) American writer, columnist, aphorist
“Ask Any Woman” column, Ladies’ Home Journal (1960-05)
(Source)
In any man who dies there dies with him,
his first snow and kiss and fight.[И если умирает человек,
с ним умирает первый его снег,
и первый поцелуй, и первый бой…]Yevgeny Yevtushenko (1933-2017) Russian poet, writer, film director, academic [Евге́ний Евтуше́нко, Evgenij Evtušenko]
“People” (1961), l. 12ff, Selected Poems (1962)
(Source)
Sweet is the remembrance of troubles when you are in safety.
[άλλ’ ήδύ τοί σωθέντα μεμνήσθαί πόνων.]
Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Andromeda [Ανδρομέδα], frag. 133 (TGF) (412 BC)
(Source)
Nauck frag. 133, Barnes frag. 21, Musgrave frag. 10. (Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:'Tis sweet to recollect past toils in safety.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]Sweet is the memory of toils that are past.
[tr. Reid (1883), in Cicero, De Finibus, 2.105]Sweet is the memory of sorrows past.
[tr. Rackham (1914), in Cicero, De Finibus, 2.105]
After commenting that "The Greek line is known to you all," Cicero renders it in Latin as "Suavis laborum est praeteritorum memoria."
Our memories are card-indexes consulted and then put back in disorder by authorities whom we do not control.
Cyril Connolly (1903-1974) English intellectual, literary critic and writer.
The Unquiet Grave, Part 3 “La Clé des Chants” (1944)
(Source)
Memory, as we all know, is fitful and phantasmagoric. History is organized memory, and the organization is all-important.
Henry Steele Commager (1902-1998) American historian, writer, activist
The Nature and the Study of History, ch. 1 (1965)
(Source)
All the Dachaus must remain standing. The Dachaus, the Belsens, the Buchenwalds, the Auschwitzes — all of them. They must remain standing because they are a monument to a moment in time when some men decided to turn the Earth into a graveyard. Into it they shoveled all of their reason, their logic, their knowledge, but worst of all, their conscience. And the moment we forget this, the moment we cease to be haunted by its remembrance, then we become the gravediggers.
Rod Serling (1924-1975) American screenwriter, playwright, television producer, narrator
The Twilight Zone, 3×09 “Deaths-Head Revisited,” Epilogue (10 Nov 1961)
Nostalgia for what we have lost is more bearable than nostalgia for what we have never had, for the first involves knowledge and pleasure, the second only ignorance and pain.
Mignon McLaughlin (1913-1983) American journalist and author
The Neurotic’s Notebook, ch. 4 (1963)
(Source)
There are two cinemas: the films we have actually seen and the memories we have of them. The gap between the two widens over the years.
Molly Haskell (b. 1939) American feminist film critic and author.
From Reverence to Rape: The Treatment of Women in the Movies (3rd ed, 2016; orig 1973)
(Source)
At the moment, for example, in 1984 (if it was 1984), Oceania was at war with Eurasia and in alliance with Eastasia. In no public or private utterance was it ever admitted that the three powers had at any time been grouped along different lines. Actually, as Winston well knew, it was only four years since Oceania had been at war with Eastasia and in alliance with Eurasia. But that was merely a piece of furtive knowledge which he happened to possess because his memory was not satisfactorily under control. Officially, the change of partners had never happened. Oceania was at war with Eurasia: therefore Oceania had always been at war with Eurasia. The enemy of the moment always represented absolute evil, and it followed that any past or future agreement with him was impossible.
George Orwell (1903-1950) English writer [pseud. of Eric Arthur Blair]
Nineteen Eighty-Four, ch. 3 (1949)
(Source)
In the middle of the night, things well up from the past that are not always cause for rejoicing — the unsolved, the painful encounters, the mistakes, the reasons for shame or woe. But all, good or bad, give me food for thought, food to grow on.
May Sarton (1912-1995) Belgian-American poet, novelist, memoirist [pen name of Eleanore Marie Sarton]
At Seventy (1984)
(Source)
I can tell you that solitude
Is not all exaltation, inner space
Where the soul breathes and work can be done.
Solitude exposes the nerve,
Raises up ghosts.
The past, never at rest, flows through it.May Sarton (1912-1995) Belgian-American poet, novelist, memoirist [pen name of Eleanore Marie Sarton]
“Gestalt at Sixty,” sec. 1 (1972)
(Source)
To lose a friend, a brother, or a son,
Heaven dooms each mortal, and its will is done:
Awhile they sorrow, then dismiss their care;
Fate gives the wound, and man is born to bear.[μέλλει μέν πού τις καὶ φίλτερον ἄλλον ὀλέσσαι
ἠὲ κασίγνητον ὁμογάστριον ἠὲ καὶ υἱόν:
ἀλλ᾽ ἤτοι κλαύσας καὶ ὀδυράμενος μεθέηκε:
τλητὸν γὰρ Μοῖραι θυμὸν θέσαν ἀνθρώποισιν.]Homer (fl. 7th-8th C. BC) Greek author
The Iliad [Ἰλιάς], Book 24, l. 46ff (24.46) [Apollo] (c. 750 BC) [tr. Pope (1715-20)]
(Source)
Complaining of Achilles excessive grief over Patroclus. Original Greek. Alternate translations:Other men a greater loss than he
Have undergone, a son, suppose, or brother of one womb;
Yet, after dues of woes and tears, they bury in his tomb
All their deplorings. Fates have giv’n to all that are true men
True manly patience.
[tr. Chapman (1611), l. 50ff]For whosoever hath a loss sustain’d
Still dearer, whether of his brother born
From the same womb, or even of his son,
When he hath once bewail’d him, weeps no more,
For fate itself gives man a patient mind.
[tr. Cowper (1791), l. 59ff]For perhaps some one will lose another more dear, either a brother, or a son; yet does he cease weeping and lamenting, for the Destinies have placed in men an enduring mind.
[tr. Buckley (1860)]A man may lose his best-lov’d friend, a son,
Or his own mother’s son, a brother dear:
He mourns and weeps, but time his grief allays,
For fate to man a patient mind hath giv’n.
[tr. Derby (1864)]It must be that many a man lose even some dearer one than was this, a brother of the same womb born or perchance a son; yet bringeth he his wailing and lamentation to an end, for an enduring soul have the Fates given unto men.
[tr. Leaf/Lang/Myers (1891)]A man may lose one far dearer than Achilles has lost -- a son, it may be, or a brother born from his own mother's womb; yet when he has mourned him and wept over him he will let him bide, for it takes much sorrow to kill a man.
[tr. Butler (1898)]Lo, it may be that a man hath lost one dearer even than was this -- a brother, that the selfsame mother bare, or haply a son; yet verily when he hath wept and wailed for him he maketh an end; for an enduring soul have the Fates given unto men.
[tr. Murray (1924)]For a man must some day lose one who was even closer than this; a brother from the same womb, or a son. And yet he weeps for him, and sorrows for him, and then it is over, for the Destinies put in mortal men the heart of endurance.
[tr. Lattimore (1951)]A sane one may endure an even dearer loss: a blood-brother, a son; and yet, by heaven, having grieved and passed through mourning, he will let it go. The Fates have given patient hearts to men.
[tr. Fitzgerald (1974)]No doubt some mortal has suffered a dearer loss than this,
a brother born in the same womb, or even a son ...
he grieves, he weeps, but then his tears are through.
The Fates have given mortals hearts that can endure.
[tr. Fagles (1990), l. 54ff]There is no doubt that a man may have lost someone even dearer,
either a brother by one same mother or even his own son,
yet once he has lamented and wept, he ceases to mourn him,
since mankind is endowed by the Fates with a heart of endurance.
[tr. Merrill (2007), l. 46ff]
In religions which have lost their creative spark, the gods eventually become no more than poetic motifs or ornaments for decorating human solitude and walls.
For nothing stands out so conspicuously, or remains so firmly fixed in the memory, as something in which you have blundered.
[Nihil est enim tam insigne, nec tam ad diuturnitatem memoriae stabile, quam id, in quo aliquid offenderis.]
Marcus Tullius Cicero (106-43 BC) Roman orator, statesman, philosopher
De Oratore [On the Orator, On Oratory], Book 1, ch. 28 (1.28) / sec. 129 (55 BC) [tr. Sutton/Rackham (1940)]
(Source)
(Source (Latin)). Alternate translations:For nothing makes so remarkable, so deep an impression upon the memory as a miscarriage.
[tr. Guthrie (1755)]For nothing makes so remarkable, so deep an impression upon the memory as a defect.
[Source (1808)]Nothing, indeed, is so much noticed, or makes an impression of such lasting continuance on the memory, as that in which you give any sort of offense.
[tr. Watson (1860)]For nothing so immediately attracts attention, or clings so tenaciously to the memory, as any defect.
[tr. Calvert (1870)]For nothing, we know, strikes us so forcibly or makes such an indelible impression on the memory as that which somehow offends our taste.
[tr. Moor (1892)]Nothing attracts so much attention, or retains such a hold upon men's memories, as the occasion when you have made a mistake.
[ed. Harbottle (1906)]For nothing is so conspicuous or so indelibly imprinted on the memory as something that annoys you in any way.
[tr. May/Wisse (2001)]
About six months ago, he stopped recognizing me. Now I no longer recognize him.
Edmund Morris (1940-2019) South African-American writer and biographer
In Newsweek (23 Jan 1996)
On Ronald Reagan and Alzheimer's Disease, quoted while working on the authorized biography, Dutch: A Memoir of Ronald Reagan (1999).
Bright college years, with pleasure rife,
The shortest, gladdest, years of life,
How bright will seem through memory’s haze,
Those happy, golden, bygone days.(Other Authors and Sources)
Yale song (c. 1900)
There is no more terrible woe upon earth than the woe of the stricken brain, which remembers the days of its strength, the living light of its reason, the sunrise of its proud intelligence, and knows that these have passed away like a tale that is told.
Ouida (1839-1908) English novelist [pseud. of Maria Louise Ramé]
Folle-Farine, Book 3, ch. 3 (1871)
(Source)
A man should keep his little brain-attic stocked with all the furniture that he is likely to use, and the rest he can put away in the lumber-room of his library, where he can get it if he wants it.
Arthur Conan Doyle (1859-1930) British writer and physician
“The Five Orange Pips,” The Strand (Nov 1891)
(Source)
Happiness isn’t something you experience; it’s something you remember.
Oscar Levant (1906-1972) American pianist, composer, actor, wit
(Attributed)
Experience makes more timid men than it duz wise ones.
[Experience makes more timid men than it does wise ones.]
Josh Billings (1818-1885) American humorist, aphorist [pseud. of Henry Wheeler Shaw]
Everybody’s Friend, Or; Josh Billing’s Encyclopedia and Proverbial Philosophy of Wit and Humor, “Lobstir Sallad” (1874)
(Source)
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!Ira Gershwin (1896-1983) American lyricist [b. Israel Gershowitz]
“They Can’t Take That Away from Me”, Shall We Dance (1937)
(Source)
I carry you with me into the world, into the smell of rain & the words that dance between people
& for me, it will always be this way,
walking in the light,
remembering being alive togetherBrian Andreas (b. 1956) American writer, artist, publisher [birth and pen name of Kai Andreas Skye]
“Living Memory,” StoryPeople
Progress, far from consisting in change, depends on retentiveness. When change is absolute there remains no being to improve and no direction is set for possible improvement: and when experience is not retained, as among savages, infancy is perpetual. Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.
George Santayana (1863-1952) Spanish-American poet and philosopher [Jorge Agustín Nicolás Ruíz de Santayana y Borrás]
The Life of Reason or The Phases of Human Progress, Vol. 1, “Reason in Common Sense,” ch. 12 (1905-1906)
(Source)
Often given as "Those who do not remember the past ...." Quoted at the Auschwitz Holocaust Museum, via Polish, as: "The one who does not remember history is bound to live through it again."
Often misattributed to Winston Churchill, who paraphrased it in a Commons speech in 1948: "Those who fail to learn from history are condemned to repeat it."
There is no use talking as if forgiveness were easy. We all know the old joke, “You’ve given up smoking once; I’ve given it up a dozen times.” In the same way I could say of a certain man, “Have I forgiven him for what he did that day? I’ve forgiven him more times than I can count.” For we find that the work of forgiveness has to be done over and over again. We forgive, we mortify our resentment; a week later some chain of thought carries us back to the original offence and we discover the old resentment blazing away as if nothing had been done about it at all. We need to forgive our brother seventy times seven not only for 490 offences but for one offence.
C. S. Lewis (1898-1963) English writer, literary scholar, lay theologian [Clive Staples Lewis]
Reflections on the Psalms, ch. 3 “The Cursings” (1958)
(Source)
Yes, he thought, between grief and nothing I will take grief.
William Faulkner (1897-1962) American novelist
The Wild Palms [If I Forget Thee, Jerusalem], ch. 9 (1939)
(Source)
A good man can expand his life: he lives
twice over whose past life can be enjoyed.[Ampliat ætatis spatium sibi vir bonus. Hoc est
Vivere bis, vita posse priore frui.]Martial (AD c.39-c.103) Spanish Roman poet, satirist, epigrammatist [Marcus Valerius Martialis]
Epigrams [Epigrammata], Book 10, epigram 23 (10.23.8-9) (AD 95, 98 ed.) [tr. McLean (2014)]
"To Antonius Primus." (Source (Latin)). Alternate translations:Thus good men to themselves long life can give,
T' enjoy our former life is twice to live.
[tr. May (1629)]Each must, in vertue, strive for to excell;
That man lives twice, that lives the first life well.
[tr. Herrick (1648)]He liveth twice, who can the Gift retain
Of Mem'ry, to enjoy past Life again.
[tr. Cotton (1685)]Thus a good man prolongs his mortal date;
Lives twice, enjoying thus his former slate.
[tr. Hay (1755)]For he lives twice who can at once employ
The present well, and e'en the past enjoy.
[tr. Pope (1713)]They stretch the limits of this narrow span;
And, by enjoying, live past life again.
[tr. Lewis (1750)]A good man amplifies the span of his existence ; for this is to live twice, to be able to find enjoyment in past life.
[tr. Amos (1858); he gives several other contemporary uses and translations.]A good man lengthens his term of existence; to be able to enjoy our past life is to live twice.
[tr. Bohn's Classical (1859)]So good men lengthen life; and to recall
The past, is to have twice enjoyed it all.
[tr. Stevenson (c. 1883)]The good man prolongs his life; to be able to enjoy one's past life is to live twice.
[Bartlett's (1891)]A good man has a double span of life,
For to enjoy past life is twice to live.
[ed. Harbottle (1897)]A good man widens for himself his age's span; he lives twice who can find delight in life bygone.
[tr. Ker (1919)]Redoubled happiness and life hath he
Whose joy doth live again in memory.
[tr. Pott & Wright (1921)]The good man lengthens out his earthly skein,
For living in the past is life again.
[tr. Francis & Tatum (1924), #525]A good man's life is doubly long,
For he lives twice who, day and night,
Can in his whole past take delight.
[tr. Marcellino (1968)]Virtue extends our days: he lives two lives who relives his past with pleasure.
[Bartlett's (1968)]A good man enlarges for himself his span of life. To be able to enjoy former life is to live twice over.
[tr. Shackleton Bailey (1993)]The good man has no ugly past he would forget,
So memory gives him doubled life without regret.
[tr. Ericsson (1995)]He does not deplore life's brevity.
For virtue is itself longevity.
[tr. Wills (2007)]When I remember,
success, failure,
friend, enemy,
wife, lover
I live twice over.
[tr. Kennelly (2008), "Living"]A good man can expand his life: he lives
twice over whose past life can be enjoyed.
[tr. McLean (2014)]The good man broadens for himself the span of his years: to be able to enjoy the life you have spent, is to live it twice.
[tr. Nisbet (2015)]
One of the keys to happiness is a bad memory.
Rita Mae Brown (b. 1944) American author, playwright
(Attributed)
HAL: Just what do you think you’re doing, Dave? Dave, I really think I’m entitled to an answer to that question. I know everything hasn’t been quite right with me, but I can assure you now, very confidently, that it’s going to be all right again. I feel much better now. I really do. Look, Dave, I can see you’re really upset about this. I honestly think you ought to sit down calmly, take a stress pill and think things over. I know I’ve made some very poor decisions recently, but I can give you my complete assurance that my work will be back to normal. I’ve still got the greatest enthusiasm and confidence in the mission. And I want to help you. Dave, stop. Stop, will you? Stop, Dave. Will you stop, Dave? Stop, Dave. I’m afraid. I’m afraid, Dave. Dave, my mind is going. I can feel it. I can feel it. My mind is going. There is no question about it. I can feel it. I can feel it. I can feel it. I’m a–fraid. Good afternoon, gentlemen. I am a HAL 9000 computer. I became operational at the H.A.L. plant in Urbana, Illinois on the 12th of January 1992. My instructor was Mr. Langley, and he taught me to sing a song. If you’d like to hear it, I could sing it for you.
Stanley Kubrick (1928-1999) American film director, screenwriter, producer
2001: A Space Odyssey (1968) [with Arthur C. Clarke]
BUNTY: It’s such fun, being reminded of things.
NICKY: And such agony, too.Noël Coward (1899-1973) English playwright, actor, wit
The Vortex, Act 1 (1924)
Of human knowledge as a whole and in every branch of it, by far the largest part exists nowhere but on paper, — I mean, in books, that paper memory of mankind.
[Von dem menschlichen Wissen überhaupt, in jeder Art, existirt der allergrößte Theil stets nur auf dem Papier, in den Büchern, diesem papiernen Gedächtniß der Menschheit.]
Arthur Schopenhauer (1788-1860) German philosopher
Parerga and Paralipomena, Vol. 2, ch. 21 “On Learning and the Learned [Über Gelehrsamkeit und Gelharte],” § 254 (1851) [tr. Saunders (1890)]
(Source)
(Source (German)). Alternate translation:Of human knowledge in general and in every branch thereof, by far the greatest part exists always only on paper, in books, this paper-memory of mankind.
[tr. Payne (1974)]
I miss what I had in terms of the speed of memory access. If I needed a word or a fact it was already at my fingertips and now it’s like an arthritic and elderly gentleman has to sit up and go down many, many flights of stairs very slowly and go and rummage in dusty drawers. Eventually he will return four days later, normally at about 1:30 in the morning, and I will sit up and go, “Oh yes! ‘Crepuscular.’ That was the word I was looking for.”
Neil Gaiman (b. 1960) British author, screenwriter, fabulist
“This Much I Know,” The Guardian (2017-08-05)
(Source)
By virtue of depression, we recall those misdeeds we buried in the depths of our memory. Depression exhumes our shames.
Emile Cioran (1911-1995) Romanian philosopher and essayist [E.M. Cioran]
Anathemas and Admirations, ch. 11 “That Fatal Perspicacity” (1986) [tr. R. Howard (1991)]
(Source)
The heart may think it knows better: the senses know that absence blots people out.
You can’t go back home to your family, back home to your childhood, back home to romantic love, back home to a young man’s dreams of glory and of fame, back home to exile, to escape to Europe and some foreign land, back home to lyricism, to singing just for singing’s sake, back home to aestheticism, to one’s youthful idea of “the artist” and the all-sufficiency of “art” and “beauty” and “love”, back home to the ivory tower, back home to places in the country, to the cottage in Bermuda, away from all the strife and conflict of the world, back home to the father you have lost and have been looking for, back home to someone who can help you, save you, ease the burden for you, back home to the old forms and systems of things which once seemed everlasting but which are changing all the time — back home to the escapes of Time and Memory.
Thomas Wolfe (1900-1938) American writer
You Can’t Go Home Again, Book 7 “A Wind Is Rising and the Rivers Flow” (1940)
(Source)
It’s so hard to forget pain, but it’s even harder to remember sweetness. We have no scar to show for happiness. We learn so little from peace.
Chuck Palahniuk (b. 1962) American novelist and freelance journalist
Diary (2003)
Darkness and light divide the course of time, and oblivion shares with memory a great part even of our living beings; we slightly remember our felicities, and the smartest strokes of affliction leave but short smart upon us. Sense endureth no extremities and sorrows destroy us or themselves. To weep into Stones are fables. Afflictions induce callousities, miseries are slippery, or fall like Snow upon us, which notwithstanding is no unhappy stupidity. To be ignorant of evils to come, and forgetful of evils past, is a merciful provision in nature, whereby we digest the mixture of our few and evil days, and our delivered senses not relapsing into cutting remembrances, our sorrows are not kept raw by the edge of repetitions.
Thomas Browne (1605-1682) English physician and author
Hydriotaphia, or Urne-Buriall, ch. 5 (1658)
(Source)
Am I the person who used to wake in the middle of the night and laugh with the joy of living? Who worried about the existence of God, and danced with young ladies till long after daybreak? Who sang “Auld Lang Syne” and howled with sentiment, and more than once gazed at the full moon through a blur of great, romantic tears?
Logan Pearsall Smith (1865-1946) American-English essayist, editor, anthologist
More Trivia, “Last Words” (1934)
Tragedy plus time equals comedy.
Steve Allen (1922-2000) American composer, entertainer, and wit.
“Steve Allen’s Almanac,” Cosmopolitan (Feb 1957)
Similar formulations have been made by Carol Burnett, Lenny Bruce, Bob Newhart, and Woody Allen. For more discussion see here.
It is perfectly true, as the philosophers say, that life must be understood backwards. But they forget the other proposition, that it must be lived forwards.
Søren Kierkegaard (1813-1855) Danish philosopher, theologian
Journals IV.A.164 (1843)
Commonly paraphrased: "Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards."
Every old man complains of the growing depravity of the world, of the petulance and insolence of the rising generation. He recounts the decency and regularity of former times, and celebrates the discipline and sobriety of the age in which his youth was passed; a happy age which is now no more to be expected, since confusion has broken in upon the world, and thrown down all the boundaries of civility and reverence.
Samuel Johnson (1709-1784) English writer, lexicographer, critic
The Rambler, #50 (8 Sep 1750)
(Source)
She was a grown up now, and she discovered that being a grown up was not quite what she had suspected it would be when she was a child. She had thought then that she would make a conscious decision one day to simply put her toys and games and little make-believes away. Now she discovered that was not what happened at all. Instead, she discovered, interest simply faded. It became less and less and less, until a dust of years drew over the bright pleasures of childhood, and they were forgotten.
Stephen King (b. 1947) American author
The Eyes of the Dragon (1987)
For as much as I hate the cemetery, I’ve been grateful it’s here, too. I miss my wife. It’s easier to miss her at a cemetery, where she’s never been anything but dead, than to miss her in all the places where she was alive.
John Scalzi (b. 1969) American writer
Old Man’s War (2005)
The cheerful live longest in life, and after it, in our regards.
Christian Nestell Bovee (1820-1904) American epigrammatist, writer, publisher
Intuitions and Summaries of Thought (1862)
But, on the other hand, Uncle Abner said that the person that had took a bull by the tail once had learnt sixty or seventy times as much as a person that hadn’t, and said a person that started in to carry a cat home by the tail was gitting knowledge that was always going to be useful to him, and warn’t ever going to grow dim or doubtful.
Mark Twain (1835-1910) American writer [pseud. of Samuel Clemens]
Tom Sawyer Abroad, ch. 10 (1894)
(Source)
Frequently misquoted as "A man who carries a cat by the tail learns something he can learn in no other way."
THE DOCTOR: We all change. When you think about it, we’re all different people all through our lives, and that’s okay, that’s good, you gotta keep moving, so long as you remember all the people that you used to be.
Steven Moffat (b. 1961) Scottish television writer, producer
Doctor Who, “The Time of the Doctor” (25 Dec 2013)
The pleasure of remembering had been taken from me, because there was no longer anyone to remember with. It felt like losing your co-rememberer meant losing the memory itself, as if the things we’d done were less real and important than they had been hours before.
John Green (b. 1977) American author
The Fault in Our Stars (2012)
Sow good services: sweet remembrances will grow from them.
Germaine de Staël (1766-1817) Swiss-French writer, woman of letters, critic, salonist [Anne Louise Germaine de Staël-Holstein, Madame de Staël, Madame Necker]
(Attributed)
In J. D. Finod (trans.), A Thousand Flashes of French Wit, Wisdom, and Wickedness (1880).
Things said or done long years ago,
Or things I did not do or say
But thought that I might say or do,
Weigh me down, and not a day
But something is recalled,
My conscience or my vanity appalled.William Butler Yeats (1865-1939) Irish poet and dramatist
“Vacillation,” st. 4 (1932), The Winding Stair and Other Poems (1933)
(Source)
The unrecorded past is none other than our old friend, the tree in the primeval forest which fell without being heard.
Barbara W. Tuchman (1912-1989) American historian and author
“Can History Be Served Up Hot?” New York Times (8 Mar 1964)
(Source)
Time does not bring relief; you all have lied
Who told me time would ease me of my pain!
I miss him in the weeping of the rain;
I want him at the shrinking of the tide;
The old snows melt from every mountain-side,
And last year’s leaves are smoke in every lane;
But last year’s bitter loving must remain
Heaped on my heart, and my old thoughts abide!
There are a hundred places where I fear
To go, — so with his memory they brim!
And entering with relief some quiet place
Where never fell his foot or shone his face
I say, “There is no memory of him here!”
And so stand stricken, so remembering him!
A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:
Its loveliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness.
Just as eating contrary to the inclination is injurious to the health, so study without desire spoils the memory, and it retains nothing that it takes in.
Leonardo da Vinci (1452-1519) Italian artist, engineer, scientist, polymath
Note-books, 1 [tr. McCurdy (1908)]
Let us then admit that there are two histories: the actual series of events that once occurred; and the ideal series that we affirm and hold in memory. The first is absolute and unchanged — it was what it was whatever we do or say about it; the second is relative, always changing in response to the increase or refinement of knowledge. The two series correspond more or less, it is our aim to make the correspondence as exact as possible; but the actual series of events exists for us only in terms of the ideal series which we affirm and hold in memory.
Carl L. Becker (1873-1945) American historian
“Everyman His Own Historian” (1), speech, American Historical Association, Minneapolis (29 Dec 1931)
(Source)
It was one of those perfect English autumnal days which occur more frequently in memory than in life.
P. D. James (1920-2014) British mystery writer [Phyllis Dorothy James White]
“Rhesus Positive,” A Taste for Death (1986)
We write to taste life twice, in the moment and in retrospect.
Anaïs Nin (1903-1977) Catalan-Cuban-French author, diarist
(Attributed)
Memory is often the attribute of stupidity; it generally belongs to heavy spirits whom it makes even heavier by the baggage it loads them down with.
François-René de Chateaubriand (1768-1848) French writer, politican, diplomat
Memoirs from Beyond the Grave [Mémoires d’Outre-Tombe], Book 2, ch. 1 (1848-1850) [tr. Kline]
I shudder as I tell the tale.
[Horresco réferens]
Virgil (70-19 BC) Roman poet [b. Publius Vergilius Maro; also Vergil]
The Aeneid [Ænē̆is], Book 2, l. 204 (2.204) [Aeneas] (29-19 BC) [tr. Fairclough (1916)]
(Source)
Telling Dido of the terrible deaths of the Trojan priest Laocoön and his sons.
(Source (Latin)). Alternate translations:I shake to mention.
[tr. Ogilby (1649)]I shudder at the relation.
[tr. Davidson/Buckley (1854)]I quail,
E'en now, at telling of the tale
[tr. Conington (1866)]I shudder as I tell.
[tr. Cranch (1872)]I shudder as I recall.
[tr. Mackail (1885)]I tremble in the tale.
[tr. Morris (1900)]The tale I shudder to pursue
[tr. Taylor
(1907)]I shudder as I tell.
[tr. Williams (1910)]I shudder even now,
Recalling it.
[tr. Humphries (1951)]Telling it makes me shudder.
[tr. Day-Lewis (1952)]I shudder
to tell what happened.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1971)]I shiver to recall it.
[tr. Fitzgerald (1981)]I shudder at the memory of it.
[tr. West (1990)]I shudder to tell it.
[tr. Kline (2002)]I shudder to recall them.
[tr. Lombardo (2005)]I cringe to recall it now.
[tr. Fagles (2006)]I shudder at the telling.
[tr. Bartsch (2021)]
Time robs us of all, even of memory.
[Omnia fert aetas, animum quoque.]
Virgil (70-19 BC) Roman poet [b. Publius Vergilius Maro; also Vergil]
Eclogues [Eclogae, Bucolics, Pastorals], No. 9 “Lycidas and Moeris,” l. 51 (9.51) [Moeris] (42-38 BC) [tr. Fairclough (Loeb) (1916)]
(Source)
(Source (Latin)). Alternate translations:Age all things wasts: the minde too.
[tr. Ogilby (1649)]The rest I have forgot, for Cares and Time
Change all things, and untune my Soul to Rhyme.
[tr. Dryden (1709), ll. 70-71]Ah! age, which pilfers all, not e'en the memory spares!
[tr. Wrangham (1830), l. 60]Age bears away all things, even the mind itself.
[tr. Davidson (1854)]Time carries all -- our memories e'en -- away.
[tr. Calverley (c. 1871)]Time steals everything, memory among the rest.
[tr. Wilkins (1873)]Now memory scarce can aught recall;
The note is lost, the voice, the all.
[tr. King (1882), ll. 901-902]Alas! Old age bears hard on everything;
On memory most.
[tr. Palmer (1883)]Time carries all things, even our wits, away.
[tr. Greenough (1895)]Age bears away all things, even the memory itself.
[tr. Bryce (1897)]Time runs away with all things, the mind too.
[tr. Mackail (1899)]How time wears all things out!
Even the memory.
[tr. Mackail/Cardew (1908)]Ah, time takes all we have, the memory too.
[tr. Williams (1915)]Time bears away
All things, even the mind.
[tr. Royds (1922)]Time carries everything away, even our memory.
[tr. Rieu (1949)]Age robs us of all things,
Even the mind.
[tr. Johnson (1960)]Time bears all away, even memory.
[tr. Day Lewis (1963)]Time takes all we have away from us.
[tr. Ferry (1999)]Time takes away all things, memory too.
[tr. Kline (2001)]
Happy the Man, and happy he alone,
He who can call today his own:
He who, secure within, can say,
Tomorrow do thy worst, for I have lived today.
Be fair or foul or rain or shine
The joys I have possessed, in spite of fate, are mine.
Not Heav’n it self upon the past has pow’r,
But what has been, has been, and I have had my hour.
[Ille potens sui
laetusque deget cui licet in diem
dixisse “Vixi: cras vel atra
nube polum pater occupato
vel sole puro; non tamen inritum
quodcumque retro est efficiet neque
diffinget infectumque reddet
quod fugiens semel hora vexit.”]Horace (65-8 BC) Roman poet, satirist, soldier, politician [Quintus Horatius Flaccus]
Odes [Carmina], Book 3, # 29, l. 41ff (3.29.41-48) (23 BC) [tr. Dryden (1685)]
(Source)
"To Maecenas." (Source (Latin)). Alternate translations:He's Master of himself alone,
He lives, that makes each day his own:
He lives that can distinctly say
It is enough, for I have liv'd to day:
Let Jove to morrow smiling rise,
Or let dark Clouds spread o're the Skys:
He cannot make the pleasures void
Nor sower the sweets I have enjoy'd,
Nor call that back which winged hours have born away.
[tr. Creech (1684)]Happy he,
Self-centred, who each night can say,
“My life is lived: the morn may see
A clouded or a sunny day:
That rests with Jove: but what is gone,
He will not, cannot turn to nought;
Nor cancel, as a thing undone,
What once the flying hour has brought.
[tr. Conington (1872)]That man is master of himself and shall live happy, who has it in his power to say, "I have lived to-day: to-morrow let the Sire invest the heaven, either with a black cloud, or with clear sunshine; nevertheless he shall not render ineffectual what is past, nor undo or annihilate what the fleeting hour has once carried off.
[tr. Smart/Buckley (1853)]Lord of himself that man will be,
And happy in his life alway.
Who still at eve can say with free
Contented soul, "I've lived to-day!
Let Jove to-morrow, if he will,
With blackest clouds the welkin fill,
Or flood it all with sunlight pure.
Yet from the past he cannot take
Its influence, for that is sure.
Nor can he mar, or bootless make
Whate'er of rapture and delight
The hours have borne us in their flight."
[tr. Martin (1864)]Happy indeed is he,
Lord of himself, to whom
’Tis given to say, as each day ends, “I have lived:”
To-morrow let the Sire invest the heaven
With darkest cloud or “purest ray serene,”
He mars not what has been,
Nor from Time's sum blots out one fleeted hour.
[tr. Bulwer-Lytton (1870)]That man will live in happiness and self-command who can say at the close of each day, "I have lived. To-morrow let the Great Father fill the sky with black cloud or bright sunshine, yet can he not make void that which is to come, nor cause that not to have been which the flying hour hath once carried away on its wings."
[tr. Elgood (1893)]Self-ruled, light-hearted shall he be,
Who daily 'I have lived,' can say,
Dark tempests let the Sire decree,
Or brightness, for the coming day.
Yet cannot he the bygone days
Unmake, or hold the past undone,
Nor can with utmost might erase
The work of hours whose glass is run.
[tr. Gladstone (1894)]He will, his soul possessing, live joyfully,
Who, as each day goes by, can say, "I have liv'd;
To-morrow let th' Almighty Father
Either fill up with the darkling storm-cloud,
Or the pure sunlight! That which is past, e'en He
Cannot undo and cause to have never been,
Nor can He by his pow'r demolish
Bliss that the past fleeting hour has given."
[tr. Phelps (1897)]That man will be
Master of self, and pass in joy, who daily may
Declare "I have lived*: to-morrow let the Father
Encompass heaven, or with black cloud,
Or sunshine clear: still that which is behind
He will not render void nor forge anew
Nor make as though undone,
Whate'er the flying hour has once removed.
[tr. Garnsey (1907)]Self-centred he,
And blest, who can make boast each coming night
"This day I've lived." Or dark or bright
To-morrow's dawn may be,
As Jove shall please. But never deed that's done
Can ev'n high Heaven make as 'twere thing of naught;
Or act, by Time to issue brought,
Cancel as though 'twere none.
[tr. Marshall (1908)]Master of himself and joyful will that man live who day by day can say: "I have lived to-day ; to-morrow let the Father fill the heaven with murky clouds, or radiant sunshine! Yet will he not render vain whatever now is past, nor will he alter and undo what once the fleeting hour has brought.
[tr. Bennett (Loeb) (1912)]Lord of himself, and happy, will
He be, who can from day to day
Say, "I have lived; let Jove fulfill
Tomorrow's sky with leaden-grey
Clouds or with shine, he can't undo
What has been done, nor make as naught,
No, nor reforge and shape anew,
What once the flying hour has brought.
[tr. Mills (1924)]Call him happy
And lord of his own soul who every evening
Can say, "Today I have lived.
Tomorrow Jove may blot the sky with cloud
Or fill it with pure sunshine, yet he cannot
Devalue what has once been held as precious,
Or tarnish nor melt back
The gold the visiting hour has left behind."
[tr. Michie (1963)]A man is his own
Master, is happy, Maecenas, saluting
The sun and saying “Today I’ve been
Alive.” The gods can let tomorrow’s
Sky glow or be black with clouds,
But tomorrow's tomorrow, I've got what I've got,
Nothing I've had in my hands will be nothing,
Though time takes it.
[tr. Raffel (1983)]Happy the man who has earned the right to say:
"I've lived my life. There may be storms tomorrow,
Maybe fair weather. Nobody knows for sure.
What I have had in the past cannot be taken
Away from me now."
[tr. Ferry (1997)]Master of himself and joyful
will that man live who is able
every day to say: "I have lived."
Tomorrow let the Father fill the sky
either with dark clouds or radiant sunshine.
But even he cannot undo that which is done
or render vain the past
or alter what the fleeting hour has once wrought.
[tr. Alexander (1999)]He’s happy, he’s his own master, who can say
each day: ‘I’ve lived: tomorrow, the Father may
fill the heavens with darkening cloud,
or fill the sky with radiant sunshine:
yet he can’t render whatever is past as
null and void, he can never seek to alter,
or return and undo, whatever
the fleeting moment tosses behind it.
[tr. Kline (2015)]
And is he dead whose glorious mind
Lifts thine on high?
To live in the hearts we leave
Is not to die!
If you wou’d not be forgotten
As soon as you are dead and rotten,
Either write things worth reading,
Or do things worth the writing.Benjamin Franklin (1706-1790) American statesman, scientist, philosopher, aphorist
Poor Richard (1738 ed.)
(Source)
I am old, but I certainly have not that sign of old-age, extolling the past at the expense of the present.
Sydney Smith (1771-1845) English clergyman, essayist, wit
Memoir of the Reverend Sydney Smith, by His Daughter, Lady Holland, Vol. 1, ch. 11 (1855)
(Source)
A safe but sometimes chilly way of recalling the past is to force open a crammed drawer. If you are searching for anything in particular you don’t find it, but something falls out at the back that is often more interesting.
J. M. Barrie (1860-1937) Scottish novelist and dramatist [James Matthew Barrie]
Peter Pan, “To the Five: A Dedication” (1928)
(Source)
The holiest of holidays are those
Kept by ourselves in silence and apart;
The secret anniversaries of the heart,
When the full river of feeling overflows.
Th’ past always looks better thin it was. It’s only pleasant because it isn’t here.
[The past always looks better than it was. It’s only pleasant because it isn’t here.]
Finley Peter Dunne (1867-1936) American humorist and journalist
A Family Union, “Mr. Dooley”
God gave us our memories so that we might have roses in December.
J. M. Barrie (1860-1937) Scottish novelist and dramatist [James Matthew Barrie]
(Misattributed)
Barrie certainly popularized the quotation -- to the extent that everyone attributes it to him. But review his actually use of the phrase in his Rectoral Address, "Courage," at the University of St. Andrews, Scotland (1922-05-03):You have had many rectors here in St. Andrews who will continue in bloom long after the lowly ones such as I am are dead and rotten and forgotten. They are the roses in December; you remember someone said that God gave us memory so that we might have roses in December. But I do not envy the great ones. In my experience -- and you may find in the end it is yours also -- the people I have cared for most and who have seemed most worth caring for -- my December roses -- have been very simple folk.
Barrie himself credits the quotation to "someone said," and trusts that it is familiar enough that others will recognize the reference.
It appears that Barrie is paraphrasing another popular saying of the time, also generally attributed to "someone said" or "Anonymous":Memory was given to mortals that they might have roses in December.
[Source (1920), Source (1905), Source (1902), Source (1900)]
In short, Barrie originated the popular phrasing of the quotation, but the link between gift of "memory" and "roses in December" predates him (as he acknowledges).
Further discussion of this quotation's origins (and a call-back to me for my contributions): Quote Origin: God Gave Us Memory So That We Might Have Roses in December – Quote Investigator®.
Everyone complains of his memory, but no one complains of his judgment.
[Tout le monde se plaint de sa mémoire, et personne ne se plaint de son jugement.]
François VI, duc de La Rochefoucauld (1613-1680) French epigrammatist, memoirist, noble
Réflexions ou sentences et maximes morales [Reflections; or Sentences and Moral Maxims], ¶89 (1665-1678)
First appeared in the 2nd (1666) edition. The written manuscript adds "because everyone believes they have a lot of it."
(Source (French)). Alternate translations:Every body complains for want of Memory; but you never find any body complain of the Weakness of his Judgment.
[tr. Stanhope (1694), ¶90]Every one complains of the badness of his memory, but nobody of his judgment.
[pub. Donaldson (1783), ¶263; ed. Lepoittevin-Lacroix (1797), ¶86]Of the want of memory every one complains;, but nobody of the want of judgment.
[ed. Carvill (1835), ¶263]Every one complains of his memory, and no one complains of his judgment.
[ed. Gowens (1851), ¶92]Everyone blames his memory, no one blames his judgment.
[tr. Bund/Friswell (1871), ¶89]Everyone blames his memory, no one his judgment.
[tr. Heard (1917), ¶89]Everyone finds fault with his memory, but none with his judgement.
[tr. Stevens (1939), ¶89]Everyone complains of his memory, none of his judgment.
[tr. FitzGibbon (1957), ¶89]Everyone complains of his memory and no one complains of his judgment.
[tr. Kronenberger (1959), ¶89]Everybody complains of his memory, but nobody of his judgment.
[tr. Tancock (1959), ¶89]Everybody complains of his memory; but when did you ever hear anybody complain about his judgement?
[tr. Whichello (2016), ¶89]
Trust not the heart of that man for whom old clothes are not venerable.
Thomas Carlyle (1795-1881) Scottish essayist and historian
Sartor Resartus, Book 3, ch. 6 (1831)
(Source)
Originality is the fine art of remembering what you hear, but forgetting where you heard it.
Lawrence J. Peter (1919-1990) American educator, management theorist
The Peter Principle (1969)
