Quotes About Brain

When we let our minds wander, we set our brains free. Our brains are most productive when there is no demand that they be reactive.

Today the law defines death, with appropriate blurriness, as the cessation of brain function. Though the heart may still throb and the unknowing bone marrow create new cells, no man's history can outlive his brain.

Israel was born so Jews could finally cultivate their land with their own hands. But the most important thing to remember is that we depended more upon our brain than our muscle. We learned that the treasures hidden in ourselves are far greater than anything that can be found in the ground.

Our cognitive skills are not fixed. At all ages the brain has the ability to respond to new information and new stimuli. Our intellectual abilities are a combination of our inherent genetic gifts and the lifelong consequences of all of the decisions we make that either positively or negatively contribute to our cognitive fitness.

Thought is just a secretion from our brain.

I keep such music in my brain No din this side of death can quell; Glory exulting over pain, And beauty, garlanded in hell.

We're still analogue beings. Our brains and eyes are analogue.

Memory offers up its gifts only when jogged by something in the present. It isn't a storehouse of fixed images and words, but a dynamic associative network in the brain that is never quiet and is subject to revision each time we retrieve an old picture or old words.

I have begun to wonder what actually happens in our brains when we return to half-remembered places. What is memory's perspective? Does the man revise the boy's view or is the imprint relatively static, a vestige of what was once intimately known?

And perception is a complex phenomenon. Our brains are not cameras or recording devices. Visual perception is active and shaped by both conscious and unconscious forces. Expectation is crucial to perceptual experience, and what to expect about how the world works is learned, and once something is learned well, it becomes unconscious.

I move through it like a phantom, and I have begun to wonder what actually happens in our brains when we return to half-remembered places. What is memory's perspective? Does the man revise the boy's view or is the imprint relatively static, a vestige of what was once intimately known?

When I take this walk, the apartment is always empty. I move through it like a phantom, and I have begun to wonder what exactly happens in our brains when we return to half-remembered places. What is memory's perspective? Does the man revise the boy's view or is the imprint relatively static, a vestige of what was once intimately known?

Until recently, we regarded love as supernatural. We were willing to study the brain chemistry of fear and depression and anger but not love.

I have a good brain on me, but I've never really used it when it came to making decisions about love, which has been a blessing and a curse.

What would be the use of a neuroscience that cannot tell us anything about love?

Some people simply knew what they were supposed to be doing and did it, and those people were the worst of all. Stevie's brain had to hit a white-hot pitch of panic before it was willing to do any real work. It would work quickly then. It was a good brain, but it had only two modes—fog and frenzy.

Your brain doesn't process language quite like other people. Why that is, I have no idea.' 'I have a superior brain?' 'Uh,' Eliot said, 'I wouldn't go that far.'

My own fault. The equipment had safeties but your primary piece of protective equipment was your brain. There was a presumption that anyone entering this room was intelligent enough to keep away from hot things, sharp things, and things carrying large stores of momentum.

What was it Like? What was what like? he said, although he knew. Quick, I imagine. But you must have perceived something. A split second of vanishing awareness. A grasping at a shrinking light. It was like being fucked in the brain.

Over time, there would be less and less of him and more of the tumor. His brain was being eaten by God. He left the clinic in fine spirits. He had no intention of removing the tumor. It was the perfect solution to his dilemma: how to feed his body's desire for intimacy. He was delusional, of course. There was no higher presence filling him with love, connecting him to all things. It only felt that way. But that was fine. That was ideal. He would not have trusted a God outside his head.

If Elizabeth's brain was a person, it would have scars, tattoos, and be missing one eye.

It's ironic that the only way to kill a zombie is to destroy its brain, because, as a group, they have no collective brain to speak of. There was no leadership, no chain of command, no communication or cooperation on any level. There was no president to assassinate, no HQ bunker to surgically strike. Each zombie is its own, self-contained, automated unit, and this last advantage is what truly encapsulates the entire conflict.

why wouldn't destruction of the brain be the only way to annihilate these creatures? Isn't it the only way to annihilate us as well?

There is a shock that comes so quickly and strikes so deep that the blow is internalized even before then skin feels it. The strike must first reach bone marrow, then ascend slowly to the brain where the slowpoke intellect records the deed.