I don't click pictures. People carry a camera with them while travelling, take pictures, keep them as memories, but I don't. I don't even have a camera.
'Dark Side of the Moon' was one of my father's favorite records, which I obviously didn't understand when I was young. To be honest, I don't really have too many memories of hearing it, but I definitely have memories of the cover.
I think the brain is essentially a computer and consciousness is like a computer program. It will cease to run when the computer is turned off. Theoretically, it could be re-created on a neural network, but that would be very difficult, as it would require all one's memories.
One of my earliest memories is my father telling me to behave because I'm about to meet and work with the greatest actor of all time. Then this old guy comes out and I was like, 'Pfff, he doesn't look anything like Luke Skywalker, I don't know what my dad is trying to tell me here.'
I just have beautiful memories of what has happened in my life.
I blame and credit my brothers for my competitive fire within me. Growing up, I lost at everything! My brothers are quite a bit older - 10 years and 5 years - so it was a challenge, but I have some of the most amazing memories with my big brothers.
We have four beautiful children and some wonderful memories.
If one's memories of Baghdad women were only of those to be seen in the streets, they would be of leathery, wrinkled faces, prematurely old, figures which have lost all shape, and henna-stained hands crinkled and deformed by toil.
Someday in the distant cyborg future, when our internal and external memories fully merge, we may come to possess infinite knowledge. But that's not the same thing as wisdom.
Let's get into talking about how autism is similar animal behavior. The thing is I don't think in a language, and animals don't think in a language. It's sensory based thinking, thinking in pictures, thinking in smells, thinking in touches. It's putting these sensory based memories into categories.
In every man the memory of the struggles and the heroes of the past is alive. But these memories are not incompatible with the desire for peace in the future.
Doubting what you see is a very odd experience. And doubting what you remember is a little less odd than doubting what you see. But it's also a pretty odd experience, because some memories come with a very compelling sense of truth about them, and that happens to be the case even for memories that are not true.
We're not that far from being able to plant images, memories, and emotional states directly into the brain.
Memories, imagination, old sentiments, and associations are more readily reached through the sense of smell than through any other channel.
I have a lot of bitter memories from Beijing. Hopefully, we can erase those memories and bring the gold back to Japan.
I think things like food, the food of the south is sort of the common tie that binds us all, Black and White, the sense memories. It's a very particular part of the country.
I find myself thinking more about the past as I get older... maybe because there's just more of it to think about. At the same time, I'm less haunted by it than I was as a younger person. I guess that's probably the ideal: to reach a point where you have access to all of your memories, but you don't feel victimized by them.
I don't mind being an only child; never have. I am lucky, though, that I have my friend Emily, who grew-up very close to me and so, there is someone I have shared memories with. I would miss that if I didn't have it, I think.
The poetry of a people comes from the deep recesses of the unconscious, the irrational and the collective body of our ancestral memories.
Oh yes, as a matter of fact it is quite interesting that exercises can be conducted which demonstrate conclusively that there are memories which exist prior to this life.
For years, I have been harboring memories of my first major league game at a place named Ebbets Field in Brooklyn.
I like Jailhouse Rock and Love Me Tender. The black-and-white films. With music, I tend more toward the '70s stuff because I was at the shows for those, so they bring back memories.
The threat today is not that of the 1930s. It's not big powers going to war with each other. The ravages which fundamentalist political ideology inflicted on the 20th century are memories. The Cold war is over. Europe is at peace, if not always diplomatically.
All my best memories of my brother are in vehicles, speeding, predatory or celebratory. We were just made to drive. For the last 12 years of his life, he lived as caretaker of an orange grove. There, on 18 acres, my brother collected cars and trucks and motorcycles.
Literature boils with the madcap careers of writers brought to the edge by the demands of living on their nerves, wringing out their memories and their nightmares to extract meaning, truth, beauty.
I have great memories of being a Cub, and I'm happy building new ones with the Phillies.
My dad taught me from my youngest childhood memories through these connections with Aboriginal and tribal people that you must always protect people's sacred status, regardless of the past.
One of my principal childhood memories is hearing one of the Liszt Hungarian Rhapsodies waft throughout the house.
If dreams are like movies, then memories are films about ghosts.
Nostalgia, the vice of the aged. We watch so many old movies our memories come in monochrome.
I have the best memories as a kid eating ice cream. It was a family tradition that I had with my father. It was nice.
People love talking about when they were young and heard Honky Tonk Women for the first time. It's quite a heavy load to carry on your shoulders, the memories of so many people.
Writing a book is a very lonely business. You are totally cut off from the rest of the world, submerged in your obsessions and memories.
My memories are of denim. I remember being 12 in my Levi's. Wow!
You can close your eyes to reality but not to memories.
I understand the nostalgia of having paper to feel and smell when you read it, but I would rather have fond memories of newspapers that have become obsolete than fond memories of beautiful forests that have become obsolete.
