While the physical injuries from slavery may heal swiftly, the emotional and mental scars remain with its victims. In Beloved, characters struggle with their memories, trying to remember the good without being haunted by the bad. Paul D. has "shut down a generous portion of his head" to avoid remembering "Halle's face and Sixo laughing." Out of her first seven children, Baby Suggs can only recall that the oldest liked the burned bottom of bread. Sethe comments, "That's all you let yourself remember," and for her, "the future was a matter of keeping the past at bay." Sethe's "re-memories" are so intense they seem tangible: "if you go there and stand in the place where it was, it will happen again," she tells Denver. In contrast, Ella has a healthier perspective on the past: "The past [was] something to leave behind. And if it didn't stay behind, well, you might have to stomp it out." However, Sethe's "rebellious brain" prevents her from forgetting: "there is still more that Paul D. could tell me and my brain would go right ahead and take it and never say, No thank you. I don't want to know or have to remember that." Beloved herself seems to have "disremembered" almost all of her past. When Sethe believes the girl is her lost daughter, she feels "excited to giddiness by the things she no longer had to remember." This implies that Sethe torments herself with memories as a form of self-punishment. Now that her daughter has returned, she feels, "I don't have to remember nothing. I don't even have to explain. She understands it all." The novel's ending implies that leaving the past behind will aid Sethe's survival. "We got more yesterday than anybody," Paul D. tells Sethe. "We need some kind of tomorrow." The narrator also observes, "Remembering seemed unwise," leading to Beloved being "disremembered"—deliberately forgotten: "This is not a story to pass on."