Memory (n.) is the receptacle and sheath of all knowledge.
Memory (n.) is the treasury and guardian of all things.
Memory (n.) feeds and strengthens what was shared with a lost friend, rather than letting it perish with him.
Memory (n.) torments fools with former evils, while wise men have the delight of renewing in graceful remembrance the blessings of the past.
Memory (n.) dwindles only if you do not keep it in practice, or happen to be somewhat dull by nature.
Memory (n.) in the old keeps whatever interests them: no old man was ever heard of who forgot where he had hidden his money.
Memory (n.) is kept in working order, after the manner of the Pythagoreans, by repeating each evening whatever one has said, heard or done that day.
Memory (n.) is the harvest of old age: the rich store of blessings laid up in earlier life.
Memory (n.) is too prodigious to be a vessel into which all we remember is poured, or wax that takes impressions — where is the bottom, and how much can it hold?