“That's the blessing and the curse of loss: You don't get to choose what falls within the inevitable dissolution of recollection or what lingers and haunts you late at night, your head heavy with memories, while your husband dreams of scaling walls in spandex tights.This is who I am: someone who simultaneously longs for and fears the commitment of remembering. There is the forgetting, the disintegration of memory, morsel by morsel; and there is the impossibility of forgetting, the scar tissue, with is insulated layers of padding. Both haunt me in their own way.”
“Memory is identity....You are what you have done; what you have done is in your memory; what you remember defines who you are; when you forget your life you cease to be, even before your death.”
“Bring me somewhere newAway from this place;Its memories haunt meAnd I wish, longing to forget”
“I'm in love with someone, & none of it will go away.The memories bombard me every day.The dreams haunt me every night.”
“I think the secret to a hoppy life is a selective memory. Remember what you are most grateful for and quickly forget what your not.”
“Memory can refuse to let you forget what you’d like to and run away with what you want to remember. It’s an unreliable bitch, or your best friend. Sometimes, it’s both at once.”