#conscious

Was I asleep? Had I slept? ↗

— Samuel Beckett

#dream #reality #sleep #waiting #dreams

Dreams are rough copies of the waking soul Yet uncorrected of the higher will, So that men sometimes in their dreams confess An unsuspected, or forgotten, self; -Since Dreaming, Madness, Passion, are akin In missing each that salutory rein Of reason, and the grinding will of man. ↗

— Pedro Calderón de la Barca

#dreams #dreams

We all woke up this morning and we had with it the amazing return of our conscious mind. We recovered minds with a complete sense of self and a complete sense of our own existence — yet we hardly ever pause to consider this wonder. ↗

— António R. Damásio

#consciousness #dreams #sleep #dreams

I'm sorry to disappoint you, but my experience belongs to me, not the collective bloody unconscious. ↗

— Ian Mcewan

#experience #individual #society #experience

Once out of your cradle, you don't focus on the world in the abstract, perceiving things for the first time, but in synchrony with your accumulated knowledge, which enriches and helps define your experience, as well as ensuring its uniqueness. ↗

— Winifred Gallagher

#consciousness #focus #rationalism #experience

I've always been interested in the relationship between total external surround, culture, the political matrix, technology, etc., and the internal human consciousness. ↗

— Norman Spinrad

#been #between #consciousness #culture #etc

Coffee makes us severe, and grave and philosophical. ↗

— Jonathan Swift

#consciousness #elixir-of-life #life #mornings #life

The ill effects of thought come about when we forget that thought is a function of our consciousness... an ability that we as human beings have. We are the producers of our own thinking. ↗

— Richard Carlson

#about #beings #come #consciousness #effects

The mind is in a sad state when Sleep, the all-involving, cannot confine her spectres within the dim region of her sway, but suffers them to break forth, affrighting this actual life with secrets that perchance belong to a deeper one. ↗

— Nathaniel Hawthorne

#subconscious #life

I begin to realize that my memory is a great catacomb, and that below my actual standing-ground there is layer after layer of historical ashes. Is the life of mind something like that of great trees of immemorial growth? Is the living layer of consciousness super-imposed upon hundreds of dead layers? Dead? No doubt this is too much to say, but still, when memory is slack the past becomes almost as though it had never been. To remember that we did know once is not a sign of possession but a sign of loss; it is like the number of an engraving which is no longer on its nail, the title of a volume no longer to be found on its shelf. My mind is the empty frame of a thousand vanished images. ↗

— Henri-Frédéric Amiel

#memory #mind #past #life