MOTHER TIME: The past is always with us, dear, for better or worse. It is what it is and you can't change it. All you can do is learn how to live with it in the present.
Apparently, for some reason known only to themselves, these people... have chosen to cling to hydrocarbon-fueled power generation well past the point at which they could have replaced it with nuclear generation.
Spiritual growth involves giving up the stories of your past so the universe can write a new one.
Forgiveness means letting go of the hope for a better past. You won't be able to forgive yourself for not doing things differently until you stop wishing things were different
Do you know what it is like, to lie in bed awake; with thoughts to haunt you every night, of all your past mistakes. Knowing sleep will set it right - if you were not to wake.
The way those old memories kept bubbling to the surface in the present tense was disturbing. It was as if the past had never died; as if on some level of time's great tower, everything was still happening.
God's already let go of your past. He doesn't remember it. He doesn't count it against you. Now it's time for you to let go too.
I popped out of a bamboo, fallen from the sky. Leave no leaf ripped, don't you ruin the nature. It makes me bitter, remembering inhuman past.
Don't live in regret! It is such a useless idea. Use the memory to prevent us do bad things! Regret is a childish wish, or an empty hope, trying to revise the bitter memory of the past.
I MAY HAVE ALLOWED MYSELF SOME FLICKER OF EMOTION IN THE RECENT PAST, said Death, BUT I CAN GIVE IT UP ANY TIME I LIKE.
I can tell you that solitude Is not all exaltation, inner space Where the soul breaths and work can be done. Solitude exposes the nerve, Raises up ghosts. The past, never at rest, flows through it.
Dreams are composed of many things, my son. Of images and hopes, of fears and memories. Memories of the past, and memories of the future...
He was the same as everyone else: he carried his past inside him. There was no escape from it. No matter how hard you push it down, the truth always comes to the surface.
The past is weird. I mean, does it really exist ? It feels like it exists, but where is it ? And if it did exists, but doesn’t now, then where did it go ?
Horror was written all over his face as he began to understand that that child of his wasn’t stupid, or immune to what he had done in the past. It had greatly affected her.
Music forecasts the past, recalls the future. Now and then the difference falls away, and in one simple gift of circling sound, the ear solves the scrambled cryptogram. One abiding rhythm, present and always, and you’re free.
I missed my mother and Elysius. It wasn't that I wanted them with me at that very moment. I wanted them in the past. I wanted to have back just one sunny afternoon together.
...the past gives you an identity and the future holds the promise of salvation, of fulfillment in whaterver form. Both are illusions.
In our opposed forms of loneliness and self-recognition and recognition of the other, we touched each other often as we spoke; and on shore in explorations of the past, we strolled with our arms linked...
Awareness is a gentle beauty. It hovers around me like a fairy, pointing to those things I would miss if I didn't look past the obvious and on the other side of busy.
There is, I believe now, a force in stories, words in motion, that either drives them forward past things into feelings or doesn't. Sometimes the words fly over the fence and all the way out to the feelings.
