This quote is from book #25 of the year. It was slow going for me as I just couldn't get into it. The main character, Ptolemy, is a 91-year-old man with dementia. I really like this description of memory. It seems so true.
"That's how Ptolemy imagined the disposition of his memories, his thoughts: they were still his, still in the range of his thinking, but they were, many and most of them, locked in the other side of a closed door that he'd lost the key for. So his memory became like secrets held away from his own mind. But these secrets were noisy things; they babbled and muttered behind the door, and so if he listened closely, he might catch a snatch of something he once knew well."
From The Last Days of Ptolemy Grey
by Walter Mosley
page 12
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