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Tag Archives: memory

Our love affair with life

The great affair, the love affair with life, is to live as variously as possible, to groom one’s curiosity like a high-spirited thoroughbred, climb aboard, and gallop over the thick, sun-struck hills every day. Where there is no risk, the

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In the sunset of dissolution …

In the sunset of dissolution, everything is illuminated by the aura of nostalgia, even the guillotine. I don’t know why but a year or two ago, I copied this sentence in a notebook. It comes from “The Unbearable Lightness of

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The day I decided to write like music

I almost remember the day. I was eight years old. We lived in Buckley Field, then a settlement of tarpaper barracks east of Denver. Long gone now except for its name. The barracks had constituted military housing during World War

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Touching Each Other’s Lives

Act One Pearl Harbor was only two months away when a famous torch singer died in a New York City hospital. The singer was Helen Morgan; she died of cirrhosis of the liver; she had just turned 41. I was

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A safe box for things

The Old Shrubsbury School House Museum, perhaps the most important character in my books, is a safe box for things. You go in; you live with them, even if for only a few minutes. You share in the pasts of

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How old are you?

I have often noticed and sometimes remarked on how, as I age, my self-image is different from what I see in a mirror. I’m not sure if any of us ever manage to coordinate the two. We continue to see

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Memory and plagiarism

  Oliver Sacks writes eloquently about memory and imagination in the February 21 issue of the New York Review of Books, sharing his memory of a war-time event from his childhood and subsequently learning from his brother that he hadn’t

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Nostalgia in old age

  As we age, I think many of our memories grow more poignant. We know in a way we haven’t before that the people, places and times represented by them won’t be repeated. Because they have that extra dimension, they’re

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Which category were you in?

On occasion, when I drive from place to place in the afternoon in Vermont, I listen in an incidental way to National Public Radio. The other afternoon as I tried to pilot the car through the ruts and snowy trenches

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Fragments of time

Most of us walk around with time strapped to our wrists, and most of our watches are digital. We see only one number at a time. On the other hand, for those of us who still use a circular clock

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