“The day that I left my home, I had prayed that my children would forget me. I wanted to spare them the pain of remembering. But that night, as I crouched in the white mist, waiting, I knew more than anything that I wanted them to remember, I wanted desperately to go on living in someone's memory. If we are not remembered, we are more than dead, for it is as if we had never lived.”

“The dead never leave us. I didn’t have to see rotting zombies to remind me of that. Every day I remembered them and mourned. An ache inside that was forever constant. All I had left of them were memories. I cherished everyone like they were diamonds. I didn’t want to forget them. I didn’t want to let go." Lorelei Preston-The Wild Hunt”

“Isn't that what your memory was about, Bria? Losing control?" I pause. "I never knew memories were about anything. Besides the obvious. You make them sound like dreams -- subject to interpretation.""I think the two are more related than we realize. It's all in how our minds frame them. How we decide what -- and how -- we remember.”

“I remember thinking I wanted to die rather than live through another February day of grayness; I didn’t tell anyone because I knew it wasn’t normal. And normal was all I ever wanted to be.”

“I wanted to live. For the father and brother who I never knew and for my mother who was cheated of a life of happiness. I wanted to live for them. And I wanted to live for me.”

“I wanted people to trust me, despite anything they'd heard. And more than that, I wanted them to know me. Not the stuff they thought they knew about me. No, the real me. I wanted them to get past the rumors. To see beyond the relationships I once had, or maybe still had but that they didn't agree with.”