I miss that town
I miss the faces
You can't erase
You can't replace it
I miss it now
I can't believe it
Our memories
They can be inviting
But some are altogether
Mighty frightening
As we die, both you and I
With my head in my hands
I sit and cry
Little girl, a memory without blot or contamination must be an exquisite treasure—an inexhaustible source of pure refreshment: is it not?
— Scarlett, you know, you get prettier all the time. You haven't changed a bit since our last barbecue at Twelve Oaks, where you set under the tree surrounded by dozens of boys.
— That girl doesn't exist anymore. Nothing's turned out as I expected, Ashley, nothing.
— Yes, we've travelled a long road since the old days, haven't we, Scarlett? Oh, the lazy days...the warm, still, country twilight, the high, soft Nigro laughter from the quarters... the golden warmth and security of those days.
— Don't look back, Ashley. Don't look back! It drags at your heart till you can't do anything but look back.
I want to live with all my memories. Even if they’re bad memories. Even if they’re memories that only hurt me… that I’d rather forget. If I keep them and keep trying, without running away, then someday I’ll be strong enough that those memories can’t defeat me. I believe that because I want to think that there’s no such thing as a memory that’s ok to forget.
Don't Waste Your Time Looking Back, You're Not Going That Way
— But my memories are here...
— Banish them, as I have done.
— My memories are all I have left.