Sometimes I sit for hours just thinking, wondering what the man upstairs is trying to tell me. Yesterday I reached the conclusion that he was saying, “Get me a slinky.
Your magnificent journey of today can only begin when you learn to let go of yesterday. Truly believe and you shall get there.
A blanket could be used to say hello to a friend I haven’t spoken to in forever. Forever is a long time, like an eternity, only it feels like just yesterday I started ignoring this friend and acting like he never existed.
He took a breath. “My future wife’s in the police... “Wait, wait, wait. How long have you been going out with this woman?” Luca cleared his throat again, this time with deserved sheepishness. “We met yesterday.
Even though I buried our love in a coffin, it isn’t dead. No, our love is very much alive. Or at least it was yesterday, when I went to visit the cemetery.
In bed our yesterdays are too oppressive: if a man can only get up, though it be but to whistle or to smoke, he has a present which offers some resistance to the past—sensations which assert themselves against tyrannous memories.
The invariable question, asked only half-mockingly of reporters by editors at the Post (and then up the hierarchical line of editors) was 'What have you done for me today?' Yesterday was for the history books, not newspapers. -- Carl Bernstein, Bob W...
Suddenly all those individuals who yesterday felt that "we" meant only their families, their professions, or perhaps their communities, become men of the nation. Their emotions and thoughts, their egos, that "something" within them, all are transform...
I had a dream about you. The Yesterday Leaf floated like a pack of feathers in flight. It was traveling north, because that’s the direction of warm tomorrow.
I’m currently drinking a coffee cup full of yesterday and thinking about tomorrow. My past is so dark it makes me think my future could use some cream.
Go within and release yesterday’s sorrow so you may embrace today’s joy.
Certainly not the way someone will have told you the same thing yesterday, made you feel alternately - simultaneously - angry and guilty, guilty because complicit because flattered, therefore unfairly angry.
...and the smoke that creeps off the tip of my cigarette and into the dim, scattered strands of light leaking off the moon, in through the clefts in the curtains, is much like my spirit trying to escape the burn of yesterday's presence.
Our lives consist of a series of internal battles, deep within us, where weapons don't exist and technology is unable to create devices that better the best of yesterday. Our knowledge is our only defense; caution, our only friend.
Not only are selves conditional but they die. Each day, we wake slightly altered, and the person we were yesterday is dead. So why, one could say, be afraid of death, when death comes all the time?
Today I’m in love. Today is Tuesday, though that’s not why I’m in love. I’m in love with Friday, and I actually fell in love yesterday.
I possess an object that reminds me of your stepdad’s bowel movements. It’s brown and squishy and smells like yesterday.
We have another chance to navigate, perhaps in a slightly different way than we did yesterday. We cannot go back. But we can learn.
Yesterday I shat rainbows until my anus started bleeding from a unicorn’s horn. Ah, the joys of being in love.
Love is me plus you. But what’s with the midget in the corner recording all of our interactions? I thought I fired him yesterday.
We made love like Wednesday and Thursday, only Thursday wasn’t always on top. Her name was Yesterday, and today will always remind me of her.
