I never think of the future. It comes soon enough.
Yes, I was thinking: we live without a future. That’s what’s queer: with our noses pressed to a closed door.
What is history? An echo of the past in the future; a reflex from the future on the past.[Qu’est l’histoire? Un écho du passé dans l’avenir. Un reflet de l’avenir sur le passé.]
The future knows what things we desire, unless there is something greater in our path that chases us away.
If you want a picture of the future, imagine a boot stamping on a human face – forever.
I am utterly convinced that Science and Peace will triumph over Ignorance and War, that nations will eventually unite not to destroy but to edify, and that the future will belong to those who have done the most for the sake of suffering humanity.
You realize that our mistrust of the future makes it hard to give up the past.
There is no point in reliving the past. There is the future to think about.
The future came and went in the mildly discouraging way that futures do.
The danger of the past was that men became slaves. The danger of the future is that men may become robots.
As for a future life, every man must judge for himself between conflicting vague probabilities.
You don’t need to predict the future. Just choose a future – a good future, a useful future – and make the kind of prediction that will alter human emotions and reactions in such a way that the future you predicted will be brought about. Better to make a good future than predict a bad one.
