Memory is part of the present. It builds us up inside; it knits our bones to our muscles and keeps our heart pumping. It is memory that reminds our bodies to work, and memory that reminds our spirits to work, too: it keeps us who we are. It is the influence that keeps us from flying off into separate pieces like"-she looked around-"like this peel of orange, and that clutch of pips.
( Gregory Maguire )
[ Son of a Witch ]
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