This is what was said about people:

. . . And this constant sundering and forging seems at times so arbitrary,
without direction, that this knot of relationships and relations
couldn't possibly be the real thing, not really.

It's like I'm this huge railway station and some trains just don't run anymore.

This is the drawer marked "people I've forgotten" and this is the drawer marked "friends".
They're both very large and frightening.

I wish I could tell you I did it all on purpose,
But I don't recall a single friend I ever made intentionally.
Or anyone I forgot like that (maybe a few).