"I now tried to bring out from the storehouse of my memory other « snapshots », particularly those I had taken in Venice, but just the word snapshot alone made it all as wearisome to me as an exhibition of photographs, and I felt within myself no more inclination or talent for describing now what I had seen years before than I felt yesterday for describing what I was at that very moment gazing upon with a painstaking and listless eye."

Marcel Proust, The past recaptured

"All the images will disappear."

Annie Ernaux, The Years