So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.
Perhaps that’s why I find myself looking backward. The past has a clarity I can no longer see in the present.
Only by acceptance of the past will you alter its meaning.
One hurries through, even though there’s time; the past, the continent, is behind; the future is the glowing mouth in the side of the ship; the dim, turbulent alley is too confusedly the present.
Memory is a wonderful gift. With it the past is never the past.
Man spends his life in reasoning on the past, in complaining of the present, in fearing future.
Learn from the past, set vivid, detailed goals for the future, and live in the only moment of time over which you have any control: now.
It’s what you do in the present that will redeem the past and thereby change the future.[É o que você faz no presente que redimirá o passado e logicamente mudará o futuro.]
It’s no good going back over the past. It’s the future one has to live for.
It’s in vain to recall the past, unless it works some influence upon the present.
It is useless to revert to similar circumstances in the Past.
It is sadder to find the past again and find it inadequate to the present than it is to have it elude you and remain forever a harmonious conception of memory.
