Some people collect stamps. Some other people used to collect small, thematic cards given free in cigarette packets in the days when cigarette packets were respectable. Not unsurprisingly, they were known collectively as 'cigarette cards.' I remember them (just.) I used to collect thematic cards -- I recall flags of the world and football players being favourite -- which came with bubble gum packs (I think.) And there are some people even today who collect fine paintings or objets d'art, but I was never one of those. Peasant upbringing, you see.
Now I collect words and phrases I find in books, mostly fiction, and think of them occasionally for no particular reason. I believe the first one I put into the collection was one I read as a youngster: Damned with faint praise. And then there was Zoe's An object of faded regard. I remember both of them quite often, and there are others. Today's precious little find comes from Virginia Woolf's short story: The Shooting Party.
...memory is a light that dances in the mind when the reality is buried.
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