Quotes About Memory

His words stayed with her for years. Each night as she lay waiting for sleep, she tried to re-create the evening in her mind — the tone of his voice, his hand on her shoulder. Soon the memory was worn as an old photograph, the edges fuzzy from frequent handling; she worried that she'd gotten the words wrong, forgotten some nuance of his face or voice. Finally she wondered if she'd made the whole thing up.

What can a photograph mean? It seems to me, now, that it's not so much the image itself as the fact that it was kept. In my own bedroom closet are three large boxes I labeled—late one night, in a dark mood—PLUTONIUM. They are filled with my own keepsakes and very heavy, decades of living distilled down to a few potent sentiments: tenderness, longing, regret.

You knew about that?" Nearly thirty years later, the memory was still embarrassing. I worried what it said about me. At best it seemed to point to some intrinsic foolishness, a deep-seated eccentricity that lurked within me still.

She took offense. Suddenly Gil Pyle's past seemed crowded with women, the ex-wives and girlfriends he mentioned casually, frequently, as though Paulette were an army pal or a drinking buddy. Wrinkled, sexless, all but irrelevant. A former woman, neutered by age.

At times I am flabbergasted that my memory is considered false and my alcoholic father's memory is considered rational and sane. Am I not believed because I am a woman? If Peter Freyd were a man who lived in my neighborhood during my childhood instead of my father, would he and his wife be so believable? If not, what is it about his status as my father that makes him more credible?

Because during trauma it is usually not safe or possible for individuals to consciously access their emotional reactions or experiences, awareness often emerges after trauma ceases." KNOWING AND NOT KNOWING ABOUT TRAUMA: IMPLICATIONS FOR THERAPY

Shareability theory suggests that memory for never-discussed events is likely to be qualitatively different from memory for events that have been discussed. This difference will be greater when the sensory, continuous memories for the event were not recoded internally in anticipation of verbal sharing. Thus, if an event is experienced but never recoded into shareable formats, it is more likely to be stored in codes that are continuous, sensory, and dynamic.

Behavioral memories of trauma remain quite accurate and true to the events that stimulated them.

Though no such study would or should receive approval from an ethical review board, Kristiansen, Haslip, and Kelly (1997) pointed out that there are no empirical studies demonstrating that it is possible to instill false memories of abuse." KNOWING AND NOT KNOWING ABOUT TRAUMA: IMPLICATIONS FOR THERAPY

Although false memory psychologists point to therapy sessions as the setting in which people commonly determine that they forgot, and then remembered, abuse. Elliott (1997) found that the majority of people who had forgotten a traumatic event and then remembered it identified the trigger as some form of media presentation, such as a film or a television show. Psychotherapy was the least common trigger for remembering trauma." KNOWING AND NOT KNOWING ABOUT TRAUMA: IMPLICATIONS FOR THERAPY

The past is life mistakes, Much like a picture is like the past. A picture is a memory of a moment in time one can have in a physical form, the now,being a current view of ones present past Fast forward to a a projected future.

knows that Mrs. Wiederhorn's been a little forgetful since her husband died. Well, a lot forgetful, I'd say, seeing as my father's been dead for years now. She pays us and then offers us more cookies, but we say we

That the good that we do might live on after us, while the evil lies interred with their bones.

I am everything. I am nothing. I am powerful. I am forgotten.

You're a very pretty girl...Did you know? Once upon a time, I had a pretty, pretty boy.' She reached forward and touched my cheek with one manicured hand.

Her name was Emily," he repeated. "And she wasn't just a girl.

Tobias Hawthorne. Even dead, he was larger than life.

My body recognized him before my mind did. His arms beat against the water in a brutally efficient butterfly stroke. And his back muscles…

My point is that you know who your mom was, Avery. We both do. And she was wonderful.

Ik heb een geheim, kon ik mijn moeder horen zeggen, minder dan een week voordat ze overleed. Over de dag dat je bent geboren.

Did you find what I found?" he asked me. "Two of the four charities have connections to victims of the fire. I'm still piecing together the rest, but I have a theory." "Does your theory involve Toby having been a patient at Camden House and potentially losing his memory after the fire?" I asked. Jameson leaned toward me. "We're brilliant.

Sometimes I wonder if you remember things the way they really were.

Think of me,' she said because it seemed like something a girl in a fairy tale might say. Think of me. Remember me. Love me. Turn me into a story you tell again and again. The sister who was good as gold and became a queen.

And as Rhonda told the story, she thought: this is how the past gets passed down. This is how memories are made. Half-invented, embellished, given a touch of whimsy. Daniel would be a saint now that he was dead. A beautiful man who made his child wings.