The only real currency in the world is memory. It is not a currency that can be left merely as a quantified unit, as say gold, or iron, or anything that is strictly based on a dead-weighted matter. Memory has grades and upon those grades is a qualified experience of heightened value. By way of human experience a man will either be able to muster at will the quantity and quality of memory in order learn from those experiences and yield a benefit, or he will simply pass through his life, single scene by single scene, repeating the same miserable mistakes one after another, remaining as he is, standing on the same spot at the end as he was in the beginning. It is through memory alone, by its range of colours and intensities, that he can bring to the present the experiences of the past, connect the dots of cause and effect, deed and consequence, and so feel without a shadow of a doubt what will happen before it ever does. If a man fails to recognise the patterns of his life, he is lost within a dark wilderness of endlessly repeating cycles. His only power lies within the cultivation of the memory he has collected and stored on dusty shelves that are as of yet too high for him to reach.