torn sheets in the rain

"when i remember that dizzy summer, that dull, stupid, lovely, dire summer, it seems that in those days i ate my lunches, smelled another's skin, noticed a shade of yellow, even simply sat, with great lust and hopefulness - and that i lusted with greater faith, hoped with greater abandon...no doubt all of this is not true remembrance but the ruinous work of nostalgia, which obliterates the past, and no doubt, as usual, i have exaggerated everything."

- m. chabon, 'the mysteries of pittsburgh'