My scars remind me that I did indeed survive my deepest wounds. That in itself is an accomplishment. And they bring to mind something else, too. They remind me that the damage life has inflicted...

A person who can not deal with the past of others, can not deal with yours.

Like the line of love, I thought. Once crossed you can’t go back. Like the line between past and future. Or maybe really the line between past and now. The now my father spoke of....

…only think a moment that we are here now, and that that was then, and it has come to this, and how odd, odd, odd it is!

He remembered a version of himself untrammeled by expectation, unimpeded by Ego. He had suffered in the many years since then, seeking to return to that original self, if, in fact, it ever existed. And...

És meséltem neked az emlékeimről. Nem mindenről. Célt tűztem ki magamnak, és nem akarlak a múltam meséivel untatni. Inkább arról a különös érzésről meséltem, hogy az emlékek valóságosabbá váltak számomra, mint az életem. Arról, hogy...

He may actually have been existing in the past and approximating a conceivable future, which brought even the assumption of his immediate perceptions as being in the present into doubt. And thus, he couldn’t—beyond a...

I don’t think humanity just replays history, but we are the same people our ancestors were, and our descendants are going to face a lot of the same situations we do. It’s instructive to imagine...

Life moves forward. The old leaves wither, die and fall away, and the new growth extends forward into the light.

Fuck the past. This was the present.

The origin of illness may be in the past, but the virulent crisis must be dynamically tackled. I believe in attacking the core of the illness, through its present symptoms, quickly, directly. The past is...

Release the story and the truth will be revealed. Release the past and the present will reveal itself. Embrace the future and walk through your fears. Dig out the weeds and the flowers will blossom....

My past takes no hostages, no prisoners. I’ve let go of yesterday and am free to receive the beautiful gift of the present.

The memory of the pain did not destroy the reality of the pleasure; grief did not obliterate joy.

you know what her punishment is for tormenting you way back when?” he said.I looked at him.He said, “her punishment is being her,

Old places fire the internal weather of our pasts. The mild winds, aching calms, and hard storms of forgotten emotions return to us when we return to the spots where they happened.

You invoke a new futurewhen you envision your pastin the light of your present.

I’m a bad man. I need to understand the past. It illuminates the present.

The ascendancy over men’s minds of the ruins of the stupendous past, the past of history, legend and myth, at once factual and fantastic, stretching back and back into ages that can but be surmised,...

It’s all history out there, Clemens. Your history, my history. You and me, boy, not dates and things. You and me. That’s what history is all about. How we came to be here, in the...