Benjamin Alire Saenz Quotes
And—for the longest second—how he’d wanted to jump in an ocean, scrub himself raw until all of his skin was gone so he could grow a new outer shell, a shell that man hadn’t touched, and he hated how everything came back to him in an instant almost as if it wasn’t a memory at all but a moment in time he was condemned to live and relive, a scene in his life he’d have to step into over and over again until he got his lines right, but he would always get it wrong.
Quotes to Explore
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I'm not a natural performer or exhibitionist. When I was younger, I hated the focus, and it made me feel strange.
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But more wonderful than the lore of old men and the lore of books is the secret lore of ocean.
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Literature is memory written down. All literature is memory.
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We need a NASA-like organization for ocean exploration, because we need to be exploring and protecting our life support systems here on Earth.
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Listening to soft music and the sound of the ocean is quite relaxing to me.
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I'm a writer who simply can't know what I'm writing about until the writing lets me discover it. In a sense, my writing process embraces the gapped nature of my memory process, leaping across spaces that represent all I've lost and establishing fresh patterns within all that remains.
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There is no substitute for a real location when you're trying to shoot the jungle. You can't just go anywhere. You've got to go where it's lush and green and there really is those mountain ranges, the trees and the ocean.
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The universe is an example of love. Like a tree. Like the ocean. Like my body. Like my wheelchair. I see the love.
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Mimicking the intricacies of the human brain, a neuro-inspired computer would work in a fashion similar to the way neurons and synapses communicate. It could potentially learn or develop memory.
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With epidemics, people have been standing on the shore, waiting for the gusher to hit the ocean. But to prevent epidemics, you have to look at the various little sources that feed into the river.
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To be a liar, you've got to have a great memory, and I don't have a memory.
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Centuries-old habitats such as coral gardens are destroyed in an instant by bottom trawls, pulverized by weighted nets into barren plains. And global carbon dioxide emissions from human activity affect the ocean, changing the pH balance of the waters in a phenomenon known as ocean acidification.
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The American world had - seemingly, at least - become a Jeffersonian world by the election of 1800, which placed Thomas Jefferson in the presidency. Jefferson had been Hamilton's rival in the new government's early years, and Hamilton has figured in the public memory almost as much for that rivalry as for his positive achievements.
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People don't realize that now is all there ever is; there is no past or future except as memory or anticipation in your mind.
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I'd love a super human memory. My memory has never been good.
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A good storyteller is a person with a good memory and hopes other people haven't.
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But I have sinuous shells of pearly hue...Shake one, and it awakens; then applyIts polished lips to your attentive ear,And it remembers its august abodes,And murmurs as the ocean murmurs there.
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(The Eurozone) resembles a fine riverboat that was launched on a still ocean in 2000. And then the first storm that hit it, in 2008, started creating serious structural problems for it. We started leaking water. And of course, the people in the third class, as in the Titanic, start feeling the drowning effects first.
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There are three fountains In the mountain of roses, There is a Caer of defence Under the ocean’s wave. Illusive greeter, What is the porter’s name?
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I think a lot of superheroes seem to have the same value system; they just have a different costume. They're all doing exactly the same thing.
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I watched a rerun on television of a 1960s comedy programme called 'Mr Ed', which was about a talking horse. Judging by the quality of the jokes, I would guess that Mr Ed wrote his own material.
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The reporters are needed to validate the historical record.
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And—for the longest second—how he’d wanted to jump in an ocean, scrub himself raw until all of his skin was gone so he could grow a new outer shell, a shell that man hadn’t touched, and he hated how everything came back to him in an instant almost as if it wasn’t a memory at all but a moment in time he was condemned to live and relive, a scene in his life he’d have to step into over and over again until he got his lines right, but he would always get it wrong.
