Lost opportunities, lost possibilities, feelings we can never
get back. That's part of what it means to be alive. But inside
our heads - at least that's where I imagine it - there's
a little room where we store those memories. A room like
the stacks in this library. And to understand the workings
of our own heart we have to keep on making new reference cards.
We have to dust things off every once in awhile, let in fresh
air, change the water in the flower vases. In other words,
you'll live forever in your own private library.
Haruki Murakami
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