"If only there could be an invention that bottled up a memory, like scent. And it never faded, and it never got stale. And then, when one wanted it, the bottle could be uncorked, and it would be like living in the moment all over again" pg. 36
"That was yesterday. To-day we pass on, we see it no more, and we are different, changed in some infinitesimal way. We can never be quite the same again. Even stopping for luncheon at a way-side inn, and going to a dark unfamiliar room to wash my hands, the handle of the door unknown to me, the wall-paper peeling strips, a funny little cracked mirror above the basin, for this moment, it is mine, it belongs to me. We know one another. This is the present. There is no past and no future. Here I am watching my hands and the cracked mirror shows me to myself, suspended as it were, in time; this is me, this moment will not pass.
"And then I open the door and go to the dining-room, where he is sitting waiting for me at a table, and I think how in that moment I have aged, and passed on, how I have advanced one step towards and unknown destiny" pgs. 44-45
"Men are simpler than you imagine, my sweet child. But what goes on in the twisted torturous minds of women would baffle anyone." pg. 201
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