Now he knew that any memories he might cherish during the last years of his life would be only fictions from a biography he'd never lived.
Max had once read in one of his father's books that some childhood images become engraved in the mind like photographs, like scenes you can return to again and again and will always remember, no matter how much time goes by.
1My father says a hunch is your brain’s way of taking a short cut to the truth,’ replied Max. ‘He’s a wise man, your father. What else does he say?’ ‘That the more you try to hide from the truth, the quicker it finds you.
[H]e lay awake, dreading the dawn when he would have to say good-bye to the small universe he had built for himself over the years.
He lost himself in the words and images conjured in his mind and for a while forgot ... He found himself flying among stars and planets ...
