Best 10290 quotes in «past quotes» category

And in the evening After the fire and the light One thing is certain: Nothing can hold back the light Time is relentless And as the past disappears We're on the verge of all things new

Andrew. Danny. Il primo era tornato da un dolorosissimo passato, il secondo vantava un dolorosissimo passato. Due uomini diversi, stesse ragioni per mantenermi a sconfinata distanza da loro. Ero fuggita da Winnipeg, adesso mi sentivo intrappolata a Gimli.

And though she didn’t know it then, whenever her thoughts drifted back toward the past, she would always remember that this was how it all began.

Animals died when their time came, and meanwhile they didn't bother with clothes, or go to war, or get drunk, or judge other animals by there look. They didn't get afraid unless there was something to be afraid of. She herself came apart with terror over something she couldn't define or understand. She didn't get afraid of something. She just got terrified> Filled with anxiety. For no reason. For no reason she could name. Would name. Animals didn't look back with shivering shame at things in their past. They didn't quake at the thought of what lay ahead. They didn't try to make it into clique and feel sick with humiliation because they couldn't make it.

And so we may go forward together with laughter in our hearts, and peace, thankful for the past, and for our own courage. For we shall make after all a fair conclusion to this brief music that is man.

And the past held only this wisdom: that love was a damaging mistake, and its accomplice, hope, a treacherous illusion.

And then you’ll catch yourself thinking about something or someone who has no connection with the past. Someone who’s only yours. And you’ll realize… that this is where your life is.

Any blunder committed in the past opens the avenue for the success of the future. However, the success of the future massively is fueled by the how positively the mistakes of the past are handled!

Anyone that refuses to grow will remain in the past. It is a demand of life

A part of me will probably always be waitin’ for her. And even when I get to the end of this life and she’s not there, I think I’ll still just wait. It’s the cruel reality of love, I think—that once you find it, it’s yours to carry. And even if you lose it and never find it back again, I think you still just keep on carrying it...and waitin’—long after the curtain closes.

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

A person who is happy is not thinking about the past.

Another blinding California day. They were all blinding here.

A picture's worth a thousand words. But a single word can make you think of over a thousand pictures in your mind, over a thousand moments, a thousand memories.

A poet is born in present, lives in past and thinks in future.

A poet is born in the present, lives in the past and thinks in the future.

Are we always our mistakes? Does anything we do heal them?

Aprender acerca del presente a la luz del pasado quiere también decir aprender del pasado a la luz del presente. La función de la historia es la de estimular una mas profunda comprensión tanto del pasado como del presente por su comparación recíproca.

As far as Gu’Rull could determine, the only virtue humans possessed was a talent for starting over, with stern resolve restored in the sudden glow of renewed optimism, in complete disregard of whatever lessons past failures might offer. And he had no choice but to acknowledge the power of that virtue. It is contingent upon collective amnesia, but as everyone knows, stupidity needs no excuse to repeat itself.

As I faced each tragedy in my life, I learned to reach into the depth of my soul for strength and determination. Through this healing process, I discovered perseverance and resilience. I could not go into the past and use White-Out to erase any events; instead, I had to find a way to use my pain to help me heal and grow. I had to stare darkness in the face and accept that I could not change the past, but I could build a better future.

As I sit and reflect in the gloomy shades of the setting sun, a voice inside my head keeps reminding me - 'The past is a morbid place to be'.

As I write this, we are in an especially divisive era in American politics. There are questions about who holds power, who abuses it, who profits from it, and at what cost to our democracy. It is a time of questions about what makes us American, of shifting identities, inclusion and exclusion, protest, civil and human rights, the strength of our compassion versus the weakness of our fears, and the seductive lure of a mythic "great" past that never was versus the need for the consciousness and responsibility necessary if we are truly to live up to the rich promise of "We the People." We are a country built by immigrants, dreams, daring, and opportunity. We are a country built by the horrors of slavery and genocide, the injustice of racism and exclusion. These realities exist side by side. It is our past and present. The future is unwritten. This is a book about ghosts. For we live in a haunted house.

Ask yourself: Am I living my past, present or future?

As long as no one gets tired From hiding behind one’s self, Let’s keep on playing this silly game of pretend That we no longer fear what tomorrow hides And That our Yesterdays left us no aches in our cores Nor chaos in our minds … Let’s just pretend

As we experience this love, there is a temptation at times to become hostile to our earlier understandings, feeling embarrassed that we were so "simple" or "naive," or "brainwashed" or whatever terms arise when we haven't come to terms with our own story. These past understandings aren't to be denied or dismissed; they're to be embraced. Those experiences belong. Love demands that they belong. That's where we were at that point in our life and God met us there. Those moments were necessary for us to arrive here, at this place at this time, as we are. Love frees us to embrace all of our history, the history in which all things are being made new.

As with the future, it is not all at once but grain by grain that one savours the past.

Aren’t you at all curious about your past?” Rhys asked. “No, my present is who I am. Your identity is whoever you choose to be, not who your parents were.” “But as a scientist you know that prior events influence it, and the future.” “In physics, yes. In people, no.

Armanoush le guardò una per una una, confusa. Era sollevata nel vedere che non avevano preso male la storia, ma a quel punto cominciava a dubitare che l'avessero davvero compresa. Certo, non si erano rifiutate di crederle e neppure l'avevano attaccata con argomentazioni contrarie: anzi, l'avevano ascoltata con grande attenzione e sembravano colpite, Ma era tutta lì la loro commiserazione? E, di preciso, lei cosa si era spettata da loro? Armanoush non sapeva cosa pensare, e si chiedeva se parlandone con un gruppo di intellettuali avrebbe ottenuto una reazione diversa. Lentamente si rese conto che forse si era aspettata un'ammissione di colpa, se non addirittura delle scuse. Però quelle scuse non erano venute, e non perché le sue ospiti non fossero partecipi, ma perché non vedevano nessun collegamento fra loro e il crimine che era stato perpetrato. Come armena, Armanoush incarnava lo spirito della propria gente da generazioni e generazioni, mentre a quanto pareva il popolo turco non possedeva la stessa nozione di continuità con la propria ascendenza. Armeni e turchi vivevano in ordinamenti temporali diversi. Per i primi, il tempo era un continuum in cui il passato viveva nel presente e il presente generava il futuro. Per i secondi, invece, il tempo sembrava essere una linea spezzata: a un certo punto il passato finiva, e da quel punto cominciava il presente, e in mezzo non c'era altro che uno strappo.

As an old, old man, Trout would be asked by Dr. Thor Lembrig, the Secretary-General of the United Nations, if he feared the future. He would give this reply: 'Mr. Secretary-General, it is the past which scares the bejesus out of me.

A thousand happy moments succumbed to history. It was the happiest hour of the year, worst time of our lives. I can still smell the ruins from that cold dark brute stormy October night.

At some point the future becomes reality. And then it quickly becomes the past.

At some point, you have to set down the past. At some point, you have to accept that everyone was doing their best. At some point, you have to gather yourself up, and go onward into your life.

At least if you were ignorant, you could do what you wanted, you had no idea what had been achieved in the past. You were free, instead of chewed at by bleeding impotence, dissolved away like a pearl in acid.

A une époque de sa vie, il y avait de cela de nombreuses années, elle avait perdu sa foi en Dieu. Elle l'avait maudit, haï, accusé d'être responsable de tous les maux de la terre. Mais le mal n'était pas une création de Dieu. L'homme avait inventé le mal. Finalement, elle avait réussi à pardonner à Dieu.

A wise man never dwells in the past because he knows he belongs to the future.

At the end of almost every AA meeting, someone read the Promises. One of these was 'We will not regret the past nor wish to shut the door on it'. Dan thought he would always regret the past, but he had quit trying to shut the door. Why bother, when it would just come open again? The fucking had no latch, let alone a lock.

Bad days my memory functions no better than an out-of-focus kaleidoscope, but other days me recall is painfully perfect.

A writer's greatest pain is reading his own words that once meant everything but as time slid, became a hollow shell of what they used to be. It is like watching your babies blooming and then withering to death in your lifetime. You still love them but the pain outweighs that love until both fade slowly into forgotten memories. You move on but every once in a while something evokes your words, your babies, unburies them from a supposedly forgotten past. And everytime, your insides scream from agony, begging your heart to let go. "I can't", the heart whispers but "I'll share the pain", he adds.

Bad memories were hard enough, but it was torture to be haunted by the good.

Basta caminar algún trecho por la implacable rigidez que los espejos del pasado nos abren, para sentirnos forasteros y azorarnos cándidamente de nuestras jornadas antiguas. No hay en ellas comunidad de intenciones, ni un mismo viento que las empuja.

Be braver. Be more honest. Don’t hold onto what you knew in the past. Artists are meant to express what other people cannot. That is why an artist, of any type, is given a privileged position in society. They are meant to inspire and we are very reliant on inspiration to help us in our lives. You cannot inspire if you are not honest. What is honest for you now will take more courage to carry and hold than it did in the past.

Castles in the Air My thoughts by night are often filled With visions false as fair: For in the past alone I build My castles in the air. I dwell not now on what may be: Night shadows o'er the scene: But still my fancy wanders free Through that which might have been.

Be careful with those people who think they are lessening you, by continuously bringing up your past; especially when they are in the presence of a like-minded audience.

Because I have forgiven my past, and God has forgiven my past, no person can make me denounce my past. It made me who I am today, and the choices I make from this moment on are what will ultimately define me.

Because that was then and this is now. Because the past is gone, even though it defines the present.

Because to ignore what had happened in the recent and distant pasts, to turn away and look elsewhere because it was easier to do so, was to be an accomplice to the crimes that were committed. To refuse to delve deeper would be to collude with the offenders.

Before the war Sofya Levinton had once said to Yevgenia Nikolaevna Shaposhnikova, 'If one man is fated to be killed by another, it would be interesting to trace the gradual convergence of their paths. At the start they might be miles away from one another – I might be in Pamir picking alpine roses and clicking my camera, while this other man, my death, might be eight thousand miles away, fishing for ruff in a little stream after school. I might be getting ready to go to a concert and he might be at the railway station buying a ticket to go and visit his mother-in-law – and yet eventually we are bound to meet, we can't avoid it...

Be happy today, let the past bury and let the future fly.

Be wise enough to learn from the past, shrewd enough to capitalize on the present, and clever enough to prepare for the future.

Big events, small, mundane moments of the day–it doesn’t matter; the past will find a way to squeeze into the present–if you let it.