What we remember is probably fiction anyway.

Everything else you grow out of, but you never recover from childhood.

The sun burnt on, drugging everything with warmth.

Being constantly with children was like wearing a pair of shoes that were expensive and too small. She couldn't bear to throw them out, but they gave her blisters.

I am of the firm belief that everybody could write books and I never understand why they don't. After all, everybody speaks. Once the grammar has been learnt it is simply talking on paper and in time learning what not to say.

It is the generation of the unemphatic. Steal, kill, lie, fornicate, but beware of indulging with conviction.

What we remember is probably fiction anyway.