Our memory is a more perfect world than the universe: it gives back life to those who no longer exist.
The pleasure of remembering had been taken from me, because there was no longer anyone to remember with. It felt like losing your co-rememberer meant losing the memory itself, as if the things we’d done were less real and important than they had been hours before.
Memories, even your most precious ones, fade surprisingly quickly. But I don’t go along with that. The memories I value most, I don’t ever see them fading.
Right now I’m having amnesia and déjà vu at the same time. I think I’ve forgotten this before.
The advantage of a bad memory is that one enjoys several times the same good things for the first time.
If you tell the truth, you don’t have to remember anything.
I can only note that the past is beautiful because one never realises an emotion at the time. It expands later, and thus we don’t have complete emotions about the present, only about the past.
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