our demons lose their power when we pull them out of the depths where they hide and look them in the face in broad daylight. (p249) - Isabel Allende

I write, she wrote, that memory is fragile and the space of a single life is brief, passing so quickly that we never get a chance to see the relationship between events; we cannot gauge the consequences of our acts, and we believe in the fiction of past, present, and future, but it may also be true that everything happens simultaneously . . . And now I seek my hatred and cannot seem to find it. I feel its flame going out as I come to understand [its] existence . . . It would be difficult for me to avenge all those who should be avenged, because my revenge would be just another part of the same inexorable rite. I have to break that terrible chain. I want to think that my task is life and that my mission is not to prolong hatred but simply fill these pages . . .

Music is a wind that blows away the years, memories, and fear, that crouching animal I carry inside me.

لقد مضيت طوال حياتي مجذفة بعكس تيار النهر بجهد وحشي، وأنا الآن متعبة، أريد أن ألتف نصف دورة وأترك التيار يحملني برفق إلى البحر.