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From about 5 years old on, I was very contemplative and started to become constantly filled with nostalgia for the present moment and the feeling that it's always fleeting.

Fond memory brings the light of other days around me.

Memory has always fascinated me. Think of it. You can recall at will your first day in high school, your first date, your first love.

I just have beautiful memories of what has happened in my life.

When I was very little my mother would read to me in bed. She gave me a fascination for stories, and for the music in words.

I like to know that when I'm 90 years old, I'm going to be able to look at a song or poem I wrote and say, 'Wow! I remember I was so crazy about this person,' or 'I remember what that day felt like.'

I had been so focused on what to discard, on attacking the unwanted obstacles around me, that I had forgotten to cherish the things that I loved, the things I wanted to keep.

There are few moments in my life where I really remember what I was doing.

I've forgotten what it's like to remember. I've lost the mindless confidence that a moment, an idea, a thought will be there for me later, the bravado of breezing through experience in the certainty that it will become part of my self, part of my story.