A Quote by M. L. Stedman

Scars are just another kind of memory. — © M. L. Stedman
Scars are just another kind of memory.
The damage was permanent; there would always be scars. But even the angriest scars faded over time until it was difficult to see them written on the skin at all, and the only thing that remained was the memory of how painful it had been.
Indeed, your scars may be your greatest ministry. Just as the scars of Jesus convinced Thomas, perhaps your scars will convince someone today.
You can't be a rebel without the scars that come with it. Truth is, some days scars are just as ugly as they are beautiful.
I was sexually abused by my step father for years and years, and that caused scars you can't see. And we know many people have the kind of scars you can't see.
I sell ideas. Actually, if you think about it, everything is really no more than idea. The past is nothing more than a memory, which is one kind of idea. The future is still a hope, another kind of idea. The present is fleeting and becomes a memory before you can put your hands on it. All ideas. I sell ideas.
Scars are memory. Like sutures. They stitch the past to me.
A lot of us grow up and we grow out of the literal interpretation that we get when we're children, but we bear the scars all our life. Whether they're scars of beauty or scars of ugliness, it's pretty much in the eye of the beholder.
One person might be able to learn by reading, another will have a good audio memory, and another will make notes in different colored pens. I have a more multi sensory memory - I remember what I was doing when I learnt it and where I was.
I'm still willing to continue living with the burden of this memory. Even though this is a painful memory, even though this memory makes my heart ache. Sometimes I almost want to ask God to let me forget this memory. But as long as I try to be strong and not run away, doing my best, there will finally be someday...there will be finally be someday I can overcome this painful memory. I believe I can. I believe I can do it. There is no memory that can be forgotten, there is not that kind of memory. Always in my heart.
When I putt, my emotions collide like tectonic plates. It's left my memory circuits full of scars that won't heal.
The Detective was different. Not that he wasn't a good man; Willie had heard enough about him to understand that he was the kind who didn't like to turn away from another's pain, the kind who couldn't put a pillow over his ears to drown out the cries of strangers. Those scars he had were badges of courage, and Willie knew that there were others hidden beneath his clothes, and still more deep inside, right beneath the skin and down to the soul. No, it was just that whatever goodness was there coexisted with rage and grief and loss.
The idea is that there is a kind of memory in nature. Each kind of thing has a collective memory. So, take a squirrel living in New York now. That squirrel is being influenced by all past squirrels.
There's something known as "memory conformity," also known as "social contagion of memory," which refers to a situation where one person's telling of a memory influences another person's account of that same experience.
The New Testament is peppered with "one another" reminders. While Scripture says to love another, encourage one another, offer hospitality to one another, be kind to one another, many people are content tolerating one another, if not ignoring one another.
Going on tour, you don't have a lot of time to mull things over. You're just kind of, "Another beer, another show, another song."
Memory plays tricks. Memory is another word for story, and nothing is more unreliable.
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