From Robert Olmstead’s memoir, Stay Here With Me:
The smell of pine was resinous, like camphor in the lucent air, and Afton, with silver rings on every finger and bracelets and beads and her ears pierced twice, was walking the ground the way light would walk if it could . . . . (p. 2)
Afton was two years older than me. I was eighteen and she was twenty and I was so in love that, when we touched, my bones ached to come through my skin to meet hers. (p. 3)
One way or another, I remember it all. I commit it to memory or copy it down. I collect it up in boxes and envelopes or paste it into a book of blank pages. Any way I can, I remember everything I want to remember. (p.9)