No estoy ni triste ni alegre; este aire de aquí te llena de una muy vaga exaltación y te hace conocer un estado que parece tan lejano de la alegría c… - André Gide

"Why," I asked, "since you live your wisdom, why don't you write your memoirs? — or simply," I went on, seeing him smile, "what you remember of your travels?"

"Because I don't want to remember," he answered. "If I did, I might keep the future from happening by letting the past encroach upon it. I create each hour's newness by forgetting yesterday completely. Having been happy is never enough for me. I don't believe in dead things."

[. . .]

"If only our wretched brains could really embalm our memories! But memories don't keep well. The delicate ones wither, the voluptuous ones rot, the most delicious ones are the most dangerous later on. The things you repent were delicious once..."

The priest accepted me, I accepted the priest, so everything went off smoothly.

I have also tailored my happiness to fit,' I cried out. 'But I have grown, and now my happiness is too tight. Sometimes it almost strangles me...