“I remember when, I remember, I remember when I lost my mind! There was something so special about that place...even your emotions had an echo...and so much space!”

“Sometimes when I'm with you, I remember things I lost when I was your age. Like I remember the sound of the rain and the smell of the wind.”

“Change wasn't something to fear anymore. And even though my picture was hung on the wall, I didn't care so much about how I'd be remembered. So long as I never forgot.”

“I observe, I write, I try not to remember the life that I didn't want to loose but lost and have to remember, being here fills my heart with so much joy, even if the joy isn't mine, and at the end of the day I fill the suitcase with old news.”

“It hurt, remembering. Hurt because there was so much I'd done, so much I'd yet to do. In so many different ways, I now realized, not remembering had been a blessing. A brief respite in the twisted bloody mess that my life had become.But at least I knew who I was.”

“No, I said. I didn't remember that. There was so much to remember, sometimes the best thing was to forget.”