"It is certainly only a matter of time before someone gets the bright idea to impose a tax on memories. We have the precedent of taxed love, memory is the next logical step," the Mycologist shrugs the shrug of a man who's spent a weekend or two drafting tables on the matter.
"With the correct ratio on the taxes per type of memory, tourism would be rather lucrative business opportunity."

He smiles, lips thinned. It is not a nice smile.
"Ah, listen to me prattle on about such ventures. I might give someone ideas, in my free time, no less. All the while I should be paying my attention to thee. I hope thou pardonst me. I shall do better from now on."

He sizes up the dancing hall and then turns to the Professor: "Pray tell, what is thy favourite dance?"