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I Wonder What Proust Would Have Made Of Our Present-day Locus Of Collective Fantasy, The Internet. I’m Guessing He Would Have Seized On Its Wistful Aspect, Pointing Out Gently And With Wry Humor That Much Of What Beguiles Us Is The Act Of Reaching For What Isn’t There.

The Problem Was Precision, Perfection; The Problem Was Digitization, Which Sucked The Life Out Of Everything That Got Smeared Through Its Microscopic Mesh.

I Find Myself Thinking More About The Past As I Get Older... Maybe Because There's Just More Of It To Think About. At The Same Time, I'm Less Haunted By It Than I Was As A Younger Person. I Guess That's Probably The Ideal: To Reach A Point Where You Have Access To All Of Your Memories, But You Don't Feel Victimized By Them.

Stu Walked Bennie Over To Chris In The Chair And Parted His Hair To Reveal Some Tan Little Creatures The Size Of Poppy Seeds Moving Around On His Scalp. Bennie Felt Himself Grow Faint.'lice' The Barber Whispered.'they Get It At School'. 'but He Goes To Private School' Bernie Had Blurted.'in Crandale,new York!

The Answers Were Maddeningly Absent—it Was Like Trying To Remember A Song That You Knew Made You Feel A Certain Way, Without A Title, Artist, Or Even A Few Bars To Bring It Back.