Anyone who limits her vision to memories of yesterday is already dead

Anyone who limits her vision to memories of yesterday is already dead.

Memories were waiting at the edges of things, beckoning to me.

My memories are inside me - they're not things or a place - I can take them anywhere.

Memories are the treasures that we keep locked deep within the storehouse of our souls, to keep our hearts warm when we are lonely.

Что происходит с нашей памятью? В то время как совершаемые нами поступки не оставляют в ней и следа, нас продолжает волновать память сердца.