Mark nodded even though she couldn't see. He'd suddenly lost any desire to talk, and his plans for a perfect day washed away with the stream. The memories. They never let him go, not even for a half hour. They always had to rush back in, bringing all the horror.

He felt more crypts cracking open inside of him; the stench he smelled was not decayed bodies but decayed memories, and that was somehow worse.

There's no consciousness without senses and memories.

I am who I am because the tears of my past have watered the magnificence of my present.

Totally present in this moment for you.

You have to appreciate where you have come from to know who you are in the present and whom you would like to be in the future.