Lost love is still love, Eddie. It takes a different form, that’s all. You can’t see their smile or bring them food or tousle their hair or move them around a dance floor. But when those senses weaken, another heightens. Memory. Memory becomes your partner. You nurture it. You hold it. You dance with it. “Life has to end,” she said. “Love doesn’t.

We are born and have our being in a place of memory. We chart our lives by everything we remember from the mundane moment to the majestic. We know ourselves through the art and act of remembering. Memories offer us a world where there is no death, where we are sustained by rituals of regard and recollection

We are the custodians of people’s memories You

Memory is the diary we all carry about with us.

Take a person’s memories, and you change who they are.

And never forget, there is memory.

The more you love a memory; the stronger and stranger it becomes

Making memories matters

I think it is all a matter of love; the more you love a memory the stronger and stranger it becomes

Memory is the diary that we all carry around with us. Oscar Wilde

One should cultivate good habits of memory, for it is capable of making existence a Paradise or an Inferno.

Memory is the treasury and guardian of all things.” — Cicero

Our life is a hope which is continually converting itself into memory and memory in its turn begets hope.

I’ve said often that every enterprise and organization has a memory. And those memories create a path for people to follow.