'of course all these last, apparently, scraps, of cantos, are your self, the memories that make up yr. person. is one then only a bunch of memories? i.e. a bunch of remains of contacts with the other people? gawd -- but it might be a reason for making the other people's memories contain something pleasant, from oneself.'
-- dorothy pound, letter to her husband, 1945
-- michelle tea, the chelsea whistle
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