Memory (n.) of a memory does not contain it: my present remembering of yesterday's remembering would keep its full nature even if yesterday's never took place.
Memory (n.) carries a hidden reflexion inside it: "I remember A" and "I have perceived A" are equivalent a priori — but only equivalent, for the meaning is different.
Memory (n.) can nest in memory without end: living in a remembered day we find memories that were lived then, and glance through them to remembered matter of the second level — and so, ideally, in infinitum; likewise fancies in fancies.
Memory (n.) gains strength in company: each recollection weighs more within its context than alone — and if the chain reaches through to the present, something of the light of perception shines back along the whole series.
Memory (n.) owes its legitimacy in secret to perception, still operative in all its confusion; and it has its own way of failing — blending what is remembered with what is not, until one memory-picture explodes into incompatible memories.