“Memory is quite central for me. Part of it is that I like the actual texture of writing through memory...”

“I am starting to think that maybe memories are like this dessert. I eat it, and it becomes a part of me, whether I remember it later or not.”

“So many memories roll through me and I realize that this is who we are: memories and shared experiences. This is what ties us all together.”

“Writing from memory like this, I often feel a pang of dread. What if I've forgotten the most important thing? What if somewhere inside me there is a dark limbo where all the the truly important memories are heaped and slowly turning into mud?”

“That memory is so crushingwhy write me lettersI already know.”

“She had lost all our memories for ever, and it was as though by dying she had robbed me of part of myself. I was losing my individuality. It was the first stage of my own death, the memories dropping off like gangrened limbs.”