Suddenly the impermanence of the web has become terrifyingly clear, and with that realisation, an awareness of how much of our selves – our pictures of dead friends, our diaries and voice memos and music and love letters, the intangible ephemera that make up our memories and identities – we store online. But in a safe that strangers can empty, on a beach that a strong tide can wash away. The most precious parts of us, the things we’d save in a fire, could be burning without anybody even smelling smoke.

Eva Wiseman)