"Wherever they might be they always remember that the past was a lie, that memory has no return, that every spring gone by could never be recovered, and that the wildest and most tenacious love was an ephemeral truth in the end." Said Gabriel Garcia Marques in 'One hundred years of solitude.' Isn't truth too ephemeral at some point of time? It means the past might not be a lie, that memory may have a return, that every spring gone by can be recovered and love at its most tenacious and wildest form may not be ephemeral.
Fleeting thoughts in snippets.