Memory (n.) keeps what is massively interlinked and lets the isolated sink — which is why a poem is infinitely easier to remember than a series of disconnected words.
Memory (n.) warms the old, and warmth kindles: so the old men's chants about their former deeds give the first impulse to the young men's hunting dance.
Memory (n.) covers only a few decades of conscious life; any wider range is an artificial acquisition consisting mostly of printed paper.
Memory (n.) is an indelible sequence that shouts after us: 'You did it, and that's what you are!'
Memory (n.) is only partly a controlled function; it is like a bad horse that cannot be mastered and refuses in the most embarrassing way.
Memory (n.) gives way when pride insists enough, as Nietzsche said; such disagreeable memories are the repressed ones.