“I cling to my memories of glorious desperation.”

“I am again in the present and awake. I close my eyes and am desperately trying to recapture the childhood memory. Now, however, I have to cross an abyss….”

“were the last words that I wrote for you enough to tell youthat in my death the light that shone through my painful darknesswas a blinding vision of your eternal smile?cold scalpel's steel whispers tear at my very coreas I cling to my memories of you...”

“Nonetheless the memory of you stayed with me, and I had no doubt whatever whom I ought to cling to, though I knew that I was not yet capable of clinging, because the perishable body weighs down the soul, and its earthly habitation oppresses a mind teeming with thoughts.”

“Books are like flypaper, memories cling to the printed pages better than anything else.”

“He was already fading. I knew that it wouldn't be long until he was just a vague image, however much I tried to cling onto his memory.”