What is history? An echo of the past in the future; a reflex from the future on the past.
This monster of a land, this mightiest of nations, this spawn of the future, turns out to be the macrocosm of microcosm me.
Love has to be stronger than hate, or there is no future for us.
You realize that our mistrust of the future makes it hard to give up the past.
Who controls the past controls the future: who controls the present controls the past.
When the mind once allows a doubt to gain entrance, the value of deeds performed grow less, their character changes, we forget the past and dread the future.
We are the dead. Our only true life is in the future.
We are made wise not by the recollections of our past, but by the responsibilities of our future.
We are fond of looking to the future, because our secret wishes make us apt to turn in our favour the uncertainties which move about in it hither and thither.
There is nothing like a dream to create the future.
There are times when even the most potent governor must wink at transgression, in order to preserve the laws inviolate for the future.
The past is gone—the future is not come. And we are here together, you and I.
