I said there was but one solitary thing about the past worth remembering, and that was the fact that it is past-can't be restored.
as they die, the ones we love, we lose our witnesses, our watchers, those who know and understand the tiny little meaningless patterns, those words drawn in water with a stick. And there is nothing left but the endless flow.
It was inevitable, of course, but somehow it didn't seem right to Alex that they would never remember the sound of Carly's laughter, or know how deeply she'd once loved them.
It's a funny thing - the reality is I have no feelings about school. It's long gone. Funnily enough, the bad memories - of which I don't have any left to be honest, I can just remember a sense of tedium - have faded. And teachers that I liked have remained quite vivid. There are three or four left.
Time it was And what a time it was, it was A time of innocence A time of confidences Long ago it must be I have a photograph Preserve your memories They're all that's left you
The slime of all my yesterdays rots in the hollow of my skull.
This is the past: It drifts, it gathers. If you are not careful, it will bury you.
Our childhood had passed over into history overnight. The transition was unnoticed by anyone but ourselves.
