"It will not be possible to forget you, Roland, ever, except in death. For then -- about which we both admitted we could come to no conclusion -- one may be obliged to forget, even against one will. I never can understand the Nirvana ideal -- which you sometimes rather rejoice in, don't you? I would rather suffer eons of pain than be nothing . . . I keep getting moments of fierce desire to write something, I don't mind what except that trifles wouldn't do. Could I write an autobiographical novel, I wonder? Can one make a book out of the very essence of oneself? Perhaps so, if one was left with one's gift stripped bare of all that made it worth having, and nothing else was left."