History could hover, like a faint perfume or a memory stamped on the back of one's eyelids.

“Life is not a plot; it's in the details.”

“How far can a person go... and still live with himself.”

“I pulled word after word from my core, like silk for a spider’s web, spinning a…”

“If you were drifting with a thousand other people, could you really still say y…”