This kind of forgetting does not erase memory, it lays the emotion surrounding the memory to rest.
No industry in living memory has collapsed faster than daily print journalism.
I met with amnesiacs and savants, educators and scientists, to try to understand what memory is, why it works, why it sometimes doesn’t, and what its potential might be.
I have a strong memory of my early childhood. I can remember life before I was two. I remember being toilet-trained like it was last week – and it wasn’t last week.
I’m one of those who cut off seeing people after a certain time, when the weight is gone and they sound like the dementia is very advanced – I don’t want to see that. I don’t even go in to look at the body. That’s not my last memory.
I’ll never forget anything about Middle Earth. That’s part of my memory now so I won’t miss anything.
It’s surprising how much memory is built around things unnoticed at the time.
I have no memory for what happens in what books. I don’t know when I might remember a scene, but beats me what book it’s in because there are 14 of them now.
There are four Powers: memory and intellect, desire and covetousness. The two first are mental and the others sensual. The three senses: sight, hearing and smell cannot well be prevented; touch and taste not at all.
I have a memory problem. My family and friends call me Lady Ghajini.
I always find that nostalgia is sort of like memory without the pain. And that’s why it feels so good to kind of bask in that, and I think it can be deceptively comforting.
I know what it is to put on weight. But when I got back to my routine, my body knew how to react. That’s muscle memory, and you’ll be amazed at what it can do.
All water has a perfect memory and is forever trying to get back to where it was.
Was I in a nativity play? I think I was an angel; I was a very blonde child, so I tended to get typecast. I have a vague memory of wearing wings.
I remember vividly one distinct memory of arriving in Hong Kong and being the only blonde haired girl in this sea of international students, and thinking, ‘Oh, my God. There’s no hiding here.’
One trick, known as the journey method or ‘memory palace,’ is to conjure up a familiar space in the mind’s eye, and then populate it with images of whatever it is you want to remember.
I think there’s a part of my brain where food, language, and memory all intersect, and it’s really powerful. I think I’m not alone in this.
You could double the number of synaptic connections in a very simple neurocircuit as a result of experience and learning. The reason for that was that long-term memory alters the expression of genes in nerve cells, which is the cause of the growth of new synaptic connections.
I can still memory – taste the fresh buttermilk pancakes and hot buttermilk biscuits – both made with lard! – that were cooked on the top, or in the oven, of that ancient iron stove.
The true art of memory is the art of attention.
You never know when you’re making a memory.
The Taj, the Blue Mosque in Istanbul, Cracao Basilica and Polish church are some monuments that hold a special place in my memory.
I write journals and would recommend journal writing to anyone who wishes to pursue a writing career. You learn a lot. You also remember a lot… and memory is important.
Neuroscience is exciting. Understanding how thoughts work, how connections are made, how the memory works, how we process information, how information is stored – it’s all fascinating.
History takes time. History makes memory.
My feeling is, when you are writing an essay, you don’t make anything up. This may be a very Protestant notion, and I’m aware of the fact that memory is fallible, that if I had access to films or some absolute documentary evidence of what happened, it might look different; we get confused and fuzzy.
When we have any function, whether it’s language or vision or cognitive functions like memory, we aren’t dealing with a straight line to the brain that says ‘This is what I do.’ The brain builds a network of connections, a network of neurons that have a particular role in that function.
The French, perhaps more than any other nation, cherish the memory of their dead by ornamenting their places of sepulture with the finest flowers, often renewing the garlands and replacing such plants as decay with vigorous and costly ones.
Young boys must be taught to play football without leading with or lowering their heads. Young players must be drilled over and over and over with Heads Up Football skills until that skill set becomes muscle memory and second nature.
I have a memory like an elephant. In fact, elephants often consult me.
I can well imagine that certain writers, even writers that we’d consider today very great writers, may not necessarily have tested highly on IQ just because of their numerical skills, or maybe they may not be very good at memory, and are not particularly good at these kinds of tests.
Performance is there, and if you are not there in that moment it happened, it just stays in the memory. It’s so immaterial and something this immaterial is very difficult to collect. Its difficult to buy, its how we can buy immaterial art.
Memory is the way we keep telling ourselves our stories – and telling other people a somewhat different version of our stories.
I marvel at the resilience of the Jewish people. Their best characteristic is their desire to remember. No other people has such an obsession with memory.
My first memory was of stories about the past – a past that, according to the storytellers, was superior in every way to the life then being lived. It didn’t take me long, however, to understand that the present was all we had, for the past was gone, and nothing could be done about it.
My earliest memory is of my first day at primary school and the distress of seeing my mother part from me.And being in a room full of strangers – of aliens. I felt that I would never see her again.
I do have a blurred memory of sitting on the stairs and trying over and over again to tie one of my shoelaces, but that is all that comes back to me of school itself.
Holes in the memory. You grab on to some things, others have completely disappeared.
Memory is the mother of all wisdom.
I trust anybody’s memory more than I trust mine.
People who think my books are autobiographical, which they’re not, credit me with having a much better memory than I do. I do, however, have a powerful imagination.
America is stronger than ever. We will forever remember those we lost on September 11, 2001. In honoring their memory, we will remain true to our commitment to freedom and democracy.
My memory is not even what most people’s is, much less what it oughta be for a discussion like this.
You can find poetry in your everyday life, your memory, in what people say on the bus, in the news, or just what’s in your heart.
The worst thing ever for me is go see a movie, and the next day I go, ‘What did I do last night? I have no memory of this $300 million movie I watched because I felt nothing.’
Bereavement is terrible, of course. And when somebody you love dies, it’s a time for reflection, a time for memory, a time for regret.
Your memory is not my memory.
The circus leaves a sweet memory.
The one thing that holds people back from working out together is that they don’t want to smell around other people. Your olfactory sense is the primary sense in your memory, and you don’t want to be part of anyone’s memory thinking that you smell bad.
White Americans have a short memory.
I feel, as never before, how justly, from the dawn of history to the present time, men have paid the homage of their gratitude and admiration to the memory of those who nobly sacrifice their lives, that their fellow-men may live in safety and in honor.
Music was an experience, intimately married to your life. You could pay to hear music, but after you did, it was over, gone – a memory.
How cruelly sweet are the echoes that start, When memory plays an old tune on the heart.
My eyesight is not nearly as good. My hearing is probably going away. My memory is slipping too. But I’m still around.
In teaching, regard must be had to the faculties possessed by the pupil. In childhood, memory; in youth, the understanding; in mature life, the reason is the predominating faculty.
How little remains of the man I once was, save the memory of him! But remembering is only a new form of suffering.
Curiosity is as much the parent of attention, as attention is of memory.
The past is still visible. The buildings haven’t changed, the layout of the streets hasn’t changed. So memory is very available to me as I walk around.
In many respects, Afghanistan represents a more difficult problem set. It does not have a number of the blessings that Iraq has in terms of the oil, gas, land of two rivers, the human capital that Iraq built up over the years, the muscle memory of a strong government – albeit one that was corrupted over time.
After Nixon resigned in 1974, he engaged in a very aggressive war with history, attempting to wipe out the Watergate stain and memory. Happily, history won, largely because of Nixon’s tapes.
Arab civilizations had been of an abstract nature, moral and intellectual rather than applied; and their lack of public spirit made their excellent private qualities futile. They were fortunate in their epoch: Europe had fallen barbarous; and the memory of Greek and Latin learning was fading from men’s minds.
