King thought for a moment, still breathing, still feeling the muscles of his arms relaxing at last. He nodded. "I suppose that's very true. Or a mix, really. I had a habit of running into people I'd met who were happy to see me, which was nice, even if I had no memory of them. It's nice to think there are people out there who think kindly of me without my knowledge. Hell, I might be a prized painting hanging on someone's wall." He swung his legs back and forth, either shaking them out or just because that's the sort of thing one does while sitting.