Memory was a curse, yes, he thought, but it was also the greatest gift. Because if you lost memory you lost everything.
No matter how long we exist, we have our memories. Points in time which time itself cannot erase. Suffering may distort my backward glances, but even to suffering, some memories will yield nothing of their beauty or their splendor. Rather they remain as hard as gems.
For several long moments we remained locked together, and I think I covered her hair with small sacred kisses, her perfume crucifying me with memories.
Without memory there can be no insight. Without love, there can be no appreciation.
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