Ever since I reached manhood, I have looked back upon that time when I was a boy and thought how marvelous beyond saying it must be to spend the first ten or fifteen years of your life in the same house—the home place—moving among the same furniture, seeing on the familiar walls the same pictures of blood kin. And more marvelous still, to be able to return to that place of your childhood and see it through the eyes of a man, with everything you see set against that long-ago, little boy's memory of how things used to be. (Harry Crews, A Childhood: The Biography of a Place)
Remember that what you are told is really three-fold: shaped by the teller, reshaped by the listener, concealed from both by the dead man of the tale. (Vladimir Nabokov, The Real Life of Sebastian Knight)
You can define a net in one of two ways.... Normally you would say that it is a meshed instrument designed to catch fish. But you could, with no great injury to logic, reverse the image and define a net as...a collection of holes tied together with string. (Julian Barnes, Flaubert's Parrot)
"Mind's Eye: Interior Memory Rendering" via The Jejune Institute
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