“We get to think of life as an inexhaustible well. Yet everything
happens only a certain number of times, and a very small number, really.
How many more times will you remember a certain afternoon of your
childhood, some afternoon that’s so deeply a part of your being that you
can’t even conceive of your life without it? Perhaps four or five times more.
Perhaps not even that. How many more times will you watch the full moon
rise? Perhaps twenty. And yet it all seems limitless.”
Paul Bowles b. 1910, New York City novelist, composer and poet