"Too much has happened to put right. I would need another life. No, several lives. Another hundred years. No, more, to unravel this knotted mess. Too tired even to begin. Wouldn't know where or how. Maybe what's done is done. It cannot be undone, only understood. [...] I must sit down. No, lie down. Rest these eyes, tired of trying not to see. Rest this mouth. Stop tasting the sourness there. Forget. Memory is pain trying to resurrect itself."