I Remember Nothing: And Other Reflections

by Nora Ephron

On some level, my life has been wasted on me. After all, if I can’t remember it, who can?

I’d known since I was a child that I was going to live in New York eventually, and that everything in between would be just an intermission.

I was just sitting home surfing the Net and wasting entire days thinking about what to do about the living room.

It’s a cliché of childbirth: you forget the pain. I don’t happen to agree. I remember the pain. What you really forget is love.

The other night we were coming up the FDR Drive and Manhattan was doing its fabulous, magical, twinkling thing, and all I could think was how lucky I’ve been to spend my adult life in New York City.