we in the grip of these endless preparations, which amount to war

Nothing feeds forgetfulness better than war … We all remain silent and they try to convince us that what we’ve seen, what we’ve done, what we’ve learned about ourselves and about others is an illusion, a nightmare that will pass. Wars have no memory, and nobody has the courage to understand them until there are no voices left to tell what really happened, until the moment comes when we no longer recognise them and they return, with another face and another name, to devour everything they left behind.

– Carlos Ruiz Zafon, (trans. Lucia Graves) The Shadow of the Wind