There [have] been reunion shows and they've been terrible, 'I remember this, and I remember that, and I remember this and I remember that,' who cares, you know? This is a story. This is a continuation.

Oak, granite,
Lilies by the road,
Remember me?
I remember you.
Clouds brushing
Clover hills,
Remember me?
Sister, child,
Grown tall,
Remember me?
I remember you.

The terrible thing about sunlight is it shows the dirt.

Remember, Everything Matters, Everything Matters, Because Everyone Remembers.

What is more tormenting than a meeting after a long time, when all the words fall to the ground like dead things, and the spirit that should animate them floats disembodied in the air? We both felt its presence.

His warmth, which seemed to presume upon some happy old intimacy we did not share, had thrown me into awkwardness.