"For at the hour of death you became a celebrated film star, it is a moment of glory for everyone, when the choral music scales the top notes."

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Memories shift like loose snow in a wind, or are a chorale of ghosts all talking over one another. There is only ever a sense that what is real to me is not real to others, and to share a memory with someone is to risk sullying my belief in what has truly happened.

— Hannah Kent