"When you’re young, you think everything you do
is disposable. You move from now to now, crumpling time up in
your hands, tossing it away. You’re your own speeding
car. You think you can get rid of things, and people
too—leave them behind. You don’t yet know about
the habit they have, of coming back. Time in dreams is
frozen. You can never get away from where you’ve
been."
- Margaret Atwood, The Blind Assassin