Nine-tenths of our lives is well forgotten in the living.
Of the part that is remembered, the most had better not be
told: it would interest no one, or at least would not contribute
to the story of what we ourselves have been. A thin thread
of narrative remains – a few hundred pages – about which
clusters, like a rock candy, the interests upon which the
general reader will spend a few hours, as might a sweet-
toothed child, preferring something richer and not so hard
on the teeth. To us, however, such hours have been sweet.
They constitute our particular treasure. That is all, justly,
that we should offer.
– William Carlos Williams