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In a world where we can sculpt memories like clay, the essence of who we are becomes marred if we overwrite our pain for fickle pleasure. - Clara Stanton In a world where we can sculpt memories like clay, the essence of who we are becomes marred if we overwrite our pain for fickle pleasure. - Clara Stanton In a world where we can sculpt memories like clay, the essence of who we are becomes marred if we overwrite our pain for fickle pleasure. - Clara Stanton