So I strode down to the school like some vengence-brewing chieftain in an Icelandic saga... - John Fowles

You do not even think of your own past as quite real; you dress it up, you gild it or blacken it, censor it, tinker with it...fictionalize it, in a word, and put it away on a shelf - your book, your romanced autobiography. We are all in the flight from the real reality. That is the basic definition of Homo sapiens.

When you draw something it lives and when you photograph it it dies

Death is not in the nature of things; it is the nature of things. But what dies is the form. The matter is immortal.