The familiar spectre that walks with me, without whom I could not still see the face of the It; which, at times, I face with much anxiety, observing through its eyes and following this dumb, serious, old specter of dreams layed down in code in the fabric of my making... . . Before this countenance, composed a thousand times, I open my mouth, but nothing I say with words can make the spectre more real than my imaginings... One time I dared to question it: "Who are you, Ghost of Memories, whom I hate and love?" but it would not reply..... And so I travel through my Life with my old, silent friend, and although it does not speak......i cannot speak without it.