Remember me, even if it's only in a corner and secretly. Don't let me go.
Write," he said. "I'll write to you as soon as I get there," answered Julian. "No. Not to me. Write books. Not letters. Write them for me, for Penelope.
that as long as we are being remembered, we remain alive.
We exist as long as somebody remembers us.
Over time, loneliness gets inside you and doesn't go away.
We spend a good part of our lives dreaming, especially when we're awake.