الطبيبُ والمريضُ نظيران , يتّعلمُ كل منهما من الآخر و يساعده ويتوصلان معآ إلى معارف جديدة وعلاج *
Oliver Sacksكان هناك نوع من العاطفة المرتجفة التواقة، وحنين غريب، لعالم مفقود، نصف منسيَ، ونصف متذكّر
Oliver Sacksإذا فقد رَجُلا رِجلا أو عَينا، فهو يعرف أنه فقد رِجلا أو عَينا، و لكن إذا فقد نفسا-نفسه-فليس بإمكانه أن يعرف ذلك، لأنه لم يعد موجودا هناك ليعرف
Oliver Sacksولكن لم يُصادف أيا منا أبدا و حتى لم يتخيل، قوة كتلك لفقد الذاكرة،و إمكانية وجود حفرة لا يُسبر غورها ستسقط فيها كل تجربة و كل حادثة..حفرة إدكارية لا قرار لها ستبتلع العالم كله
Oliver Sacksكانت هوات عميقة من النسيان تفتح باستمرار أسفل منه، و لكنه كان يجسرها بخفة و سرعة
بأحاديث و تخيلات سلسة من جميع الأنواع، و التي لم تكن بالنسبة إليه تخيلات على الإطلاق و إنما طريقته التي كان يرى أو يفسر بها العالم فجأة
For here is a man who, in some sense, is desperate, in a frenzy. The world keeps disappearing, losing meaning, vanishing - and he must seek meaning, make meaning, in a desperate way, continually inventing, throwing bridges of meaning over abysses of meaninglessness, the chaos that yawns continually beneath him.
Oliver SacksTags: meaninglessness korsakov-syndrome
Thus the feeling I sometimes have - which all of us who work closely with aphasiacs have - that one cannot lie to an aphasiac. He cannot grasp your words, and cannot be deceived by them; but what he grasps he grasps with infallible precision, namely the expression that goes with the words, the total, spontaneous, involuntary expressiveness which can never be simulated or faked, as words alone can, too easily.
Oliver SacksTags: lies understanding ideas aphasia grasping
One must drop all presuppositions and dogmas and rules - for there only lead to stalemate or disaster; one must cease to regard all patients as replicas, and honor each one with individual reactions and propensities; and, in this way, with the patient as one's equal, one's co-explorer, not one's puppet, one may find therapeutic ways which are better than other ways, tactics which can be modified as occasion requires.
Oliver SacksThis usually occurs at the moment when my head hits the pillow at night; my eyes close and … I see imagery. I do not mean pictures; more usually they are patterns or textures, such as repeated shapes, or shadows of shapes, or an item from an image, such as grass from a landscape or wood grain, wavelets or raindrops … transformed in the most extraordinary ways at a great speed. Shapes are replicated, multiplied, reversed in negative, etc. Color is added, tinted, subtracted. Textures are the most fascinating; grass becomes fur becomes hair follicles becomes waving, dancing lines of light, and a hundred other variations and all the subtle gradients between them that my words are too coarse to describe.
Oliver SacksTags: hallucinations-sleep
The ‘secret’ of Shostakovich, it was suggested—by a Chinese neurologist, Dr Dajue Wang—was the presence of a metallic splinter, a mobile shell-fragment, in his brain, in the temporal horn of the left ventricle. Shostakovich was very reluctant, apparently, to have this removed:
Since the fragment had been there, he said, each time he leaned his head to one side he could hear music. His head was filled with melodies—different each time—which he then made use of when composing.
X-rays allegedly showed the fragment moving around when Shostakovich moved his head, pressing against his ‘musical’ temporal lobe, when he tilted, producing an infinity of melodies which his genius could use.
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