My mind is too mired, to see this as you say. Even though I might look into your eyes, as long as I can without blinking. And wad up my memory into a big paper ball, to which I would set fire, and put the ashes in a safe, and drop the safe in the middle of the ocean—still, I could not tear from myself completely. Come close, and let me listen, to see as much as I may. But I will not get all the way. I am sorry.