“What we leave behind in this life is the memory of who we were and what we did. An imprint, no more.”

“What is the purpose of memory? Is it a trick to make sure we don't forget who we are by reminding us of who we were?”

“In death, we are not defined by what we did or who we were but by what we meant to others. How well we loved and were loved in return.”

“All changes are more or less tinged with melancholy, for what we are leaving behind is part of ourselves.”

“We seldom know what we're hearing when we hear something for the first time, but one thing is certain: we hear it as we will never hear it again. We return to the moment to experience it, I suppose, but we can never really find it, only its memory, the faintest imprint of what really was, what it meant.”

“All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another.”