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“‘Even now,’ she thought, ‘almost no one remembers Esteban and Pepita, but myself. Camila alone remembers her Uncle Pio and her son; this woman, her mother. But soon we shall die and all memory of those five will have left the earth, and we ourselves shall be loved for a while and forgotten. But the love will have been enough; all those impulses of love return to the love that made them. Even memory is not necessary of love. There is a land of the living and a land of the dead and the bridge is love, the only survival, the only meaning.'”- The Bridge of San Luis Rey by Thornton Wilder, page 148