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Epigraph

We, amnesiacs all, condemned to live in an eternally

fleeting present, have created the most elaborate of human

constructions, memory, to buffer ourselves against the

intolerable knowledge of the irreversible passage of time

and irretrievability of its moments and events.

—GEOFFREY SONNABEND

Obliscence: Theories of Forgetting and the Problem of Matter

From the first day I saw her I knew that she was the one

As she stared in my eyes and smiled

For her lips were the colour of the roses

That grew down the river, all bloody and wild

—NICK CAVE

“Where the Wild Roses Grow,” Murder Ballads