You remember too much,
my mother said to me recently.
Why hold onto all that? And I said,
Where can I put it down?
“In the distance the street noises died down, mauve shadows stretched out before the peristyles of the temples, and on the other side of the gulf, the base of the mountains, the olive orchards and patches of yellow waste land rippled indefinitely and merged in a bluish haze; there was not a sound to be heard, the air was heavy and unspeakably oppressive.”
Gustave Flaubert | Salammbô