“I explore it now in the only place left for it, my memory.”

“Spring. All the things an artist must be: poet, explorer of nature, philosopher! And now I have become a bureaucrat as well as by compiling a large, precise catalogue of all my artistic productions ever since my childhood. I have left out only the school drawings, studies of nudes, etc., because they lack creative self-sufficiency.”

“They say The Pacific has no memory. That's where I want to live the rest of my life. A warm place with no memory.”

“The calla lilies are in bloom again. Such a strange flower—suitable to any occasion. I carried them on my wedding day, and now I place them here in memory of something that has died.”

“I have no place left to live but in my own heart.”

“They are all I have left—the stars and the memory of the many times I wished upon them. But with all those wishes, I asked for only one thing.

To see him again.

But I will not see him again. I do not see him now.”

“It's a little place on the Pacific Ocean. You know what the Mexicans say about the Pacific? They say it has no memory. That's where I want to live the rest of my life. A warm place with no memory.”

“All his studies had been for extraterrestrial exploration. There was no place for him on Earth; and now he was barred from space.”

“Of all that I have possessed in my life, my memories are the only things remaining to me. Indeed, I believe that memories are the only real treasure any human can hope to hold always.”

“I hid my love when young till I
Couldn't bear the buzzing of a fly;
I hid my love to my despite
Till I could not bear to look at light:
I dare not gaze upon her face
But left her memory in each place;
Where eer I saw a wild flower lie
I kissed and bade my love good bye.”