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Memory Quotes

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Memory Quotes

“Hindi mo pwedeng mahalin ang isang tao nang hindi mo minamahal ang hilaga, silangan, timog at kanluran ng kanyang paniniwala. Kapag nagmahal ka’y dapat mong tanggapin bawat letra ng kanyang birth certificate. Kasama na doon ang kanyang libag, utot at bad breath. Pero me limit. Pantay-pantay ang ibinibigay na karapatan sa lahat ng tao upang lumigaya, o masaktan, o magpakagago, pero kapag sumara na ang mga pinto, nawasak na ang mga puso, nawala na ang mga kaluluwa at ang bilang ay umabot na sa zero, goodbye na. Pero, the memory of that one great but broken love will still sustain you, tama nga na mas matindi ang mga alaala.”

“The sound... pierced my heart like a dagger, and in a flood of swift recollection I thought of all the joys the house had known: the children who rushed through its rooms, the festivals, the love and work, the honestly earned slumber... All this I realized was more than I could ever abandon. ...And just as powerfully I realized I could not commit this desecration upon myself.”

“Or l’espace est une réalité qui dure : nos impressions se chassent l’une l’autre, rien ne demeure dans notre esprit, et l’on ne comprendrait pas que nous puissions ressaisir le passé s’il ne se conservait pas en effet dans le milieu matériel qui nous entoure. // Now space is a reality that endures: since our impressions rush by, one after another, and leave nothing behind in the mind, we can understand how we recapture the past only by understanding how it is, in effect, preserved by our physical surroundings.”

“The I-PFC extends between the longitudinal cerebral fissure that divides the two cerebral hemispheres and the lateral fissure below. This region receives processed multimodal information and has been described as a place "where past and future meet" by associating memories from the past with future actions.”

“IT IS SO CURIOUS how hearing something once in your youth can dictate a thought pattern all the way through your life. I was nine, a man said something nonchalantly, and now when I see a slate at age thirty-six, as far as I'm concerned, its primary use is for beheading boys. Once that's done it can be used for roofing.”

“Concepts of memory tend to reflect the technology of the times. Plato and Aristotle saw memories as thoughts inscribed on wax tablets that could be erased easily and used again. These days, we tend to think of memory as a camera or a video recorder, filming, storing, and recycling the vast troves of data we accumulate throughout our lives. In practice, though, every memory we retain depends upon a chain of chemical interactions that connect millions of neurons to one another. Those neurons never touch; instead, they communicate through tiny gaps, or synapses, that surround each of them. Every neuron has branching filaments, called dendrites, that receive chemical signals from other nerve cells and send the information across the synapse to the body of the next cell. The typical human brain has trillions of these connections. When we learn something, chemicals in the brain strengthen the synapses that connect neurons. Long-term memories, built from new proteins, change those synaptic networks constantly; inevitably, some grow weaker and others, as they absorb new information, grow more powerful.”

“If she’d had any doubts he was a real deal country boy, they disappeared when he unabashedly stripped down to nothing—the sun had kissed his arms to mid-bicep, although his torso wasn’t without a faint tan. She’d thought lazily that maybe he had a pond. She’d like to go skinny dipping with him. Leap onto his back and wrap her legs around his lean hips. Hold on to his broad shoulders and press her naked breasts into his back and drift into the cool water together. As he opened his button-fly jeans, revealing snug briefs underneath, she’d whispered for him to stop. He was hard and sinewy in all the right places, with shadows and valleys she wanted to explore with her mouth and hands and eyes, but her touch first went to the line where dark faded to light on his arm, neatly following the curve of his muscles. “Nice farmer’s tan.”

“Siempre las mismas caras que le recuerdan la herencia del día anterior, las promesas y las obligaciones, los deseos ceñidos por el orden de las frases conocidas. Afloran las palabras que no quiere pronunciar, pero incluso sin pronunciarlas están ahí, contra su voluntad, no le permiten alejarse, desviarse a una calle lateral, explorar un pasaje umbrío, salir a una plaza desconocida, entrar en otra vida.”

“I don't remember things. I black out and I can't remember where I've been or what I've done. Sometimes I wonder if I've done or said terrible things, and I can't remember. And if...if someone tells me something I've done, it doesn't even feel like me. it doesn't feel like it was me who was doing that thing. And it's so hard to feel responsible for something you don't remember. So I never feel bad enough. i feel bad, but the thing that i've done --it's removed from me. It's like it doesn't belong to me.”

“These things were in the past now, many long years ago, though the memory remained as solid and present as his heartbeats. Time's passage had made the events seem almost crazed, hyper-real, stretched across a surreal dreamscape that felt more like a skjald's embellished saga than the intact past. Perhaps it had not happened like that. Perhaps the Lion had taken his Stormbirds to the Tyrant's fortress, and he himself had teleported in. Perhaps it had not been Ogvai there, but Gunn, or someone else. Had Bjorn been there too? It was a long time ago, so doubtful, but Bjorn seemed to always have been there, right from the start, just waiting for his time to come to maturity.”

“Each time, we ask, "Who am I?", we answer the question differently. Our identity evolves, as it is the sum of our thoughts, words and deeds. To be ourselves, we have to remember ourselves, which makes our very identity conditional. Each time we remember, we reaffirm our individuality. Our existence as an independent person depends on it, but we don't exist as self-enclosed units of matter. Who we are cannot be remembered or forgotten. Our identity, as we perceive it, only appears in consciousness. Underneath, it exists in a thoughtless, wordless awareness, in which there is no "We" or "I", just an "Amness"...simply an indescribable sense of being.”

“A Mother Steeled by Stewart Stafford A haunted mother in despair's glade, That echoed with her feral screams, Sifting through tiny bones for reasons, Catharsis an absent but invited guest. Healed knees, once bloody, kneel, Cobwebs wiped, storm damage fixed, Bittersweet, her baby has taken wing, His bruises, all of him, now flown above. Daybreak's star field on the final vigil, Dropping the self-flagellation whip, Fragment memories of her infant taken, Striding forth, her scars a living map. © 2025, Stewart Stafford. All rights reserved.”

“I replace my cell phone annually for the latest model because it gives me a number of things: 1. The newer the cell phone, the less radiation it tends to emit. 2. It comes with a one year warranty. 3. The protection for the eyes and skin from the artificial light it emits gets better every year. 4. Battery life is longer. 5. The phone is faster. 6. It has more memory. 7. It runs the latest apps. 8. It has a better camera. 9. It enables me to run electromagnetic field (EMF) tests on the latest generation of phone. 10. I never pay more than $50 for my cell phone, as I know there will be a better smart phone available a year later.”