Memory is like a child walking along a seashore. You never can tell what small pebble it will pick up and store away among its treasured things.
- Pierce Harris
This reminds me of Ghalib's sher:Hazaron khwaishein aisi Ke har khwaish pe dum nikleBahut nikle mere armaanLekin phir bhi kam nikle
Thought of Omar Khayyam:Whether at Naishapur or Babylon, Whether the Cup with sweet or bitter run, The Wine Of Life keeps oozing drop by drop, The Leaves of Life keep falling one by one.
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