Quotes About Past

No matter what, the past would follow around. A sorry soul that only grew heavier in each town. She couldn't run away.

And then, when Kylie looks back at her house, she has the strangest feeling. The house seems lost to her in some way, as though she were looking at a memory, a place she used to live in and will never forget but one she can't go back to, not anymore.

It was not possible to hold on to ashes. In my dreams I had always walked out of the past, and it shut behind me, a door I couldn't unlock. Now I intended to do the same in my waking life.

wouldn't it be more likely that time was the element a spirit would be attached to? That would mean a ghost is an entity that can't let go of what was and isn't anymore.

Stop acting like you know me," Isabel said. "Well, you for sure do not know me. I'm not the person I used to be," Johnny said. "We're always the people we used to be," Isabel said.

Everything she loved had already happened and had already been.

You don't have to worry about the curse anymore," she'd reassured him as they'd walked along the landscape of their past

Neki ljudi znaju to?an trenutak kad su sve izgubili. Mogu se vratiti u prošlost i vidjeti to jasno kao na dlanu, ali ni za živu glavu ne mogu shvatiti zašto to nisu primijetili dok se doga?alo.

History was easy: the past with all loss burned out of it, all sorrow worn out of it—all that was merely personal comfortably removed

Unless the heir casts off his "inheritance" by becoming fully conscious of his true past, and thus of his true nature, loneliness in the parental home will necessarily be followed by an adulthood lived in emotional isolation.

To recognize and integrate something monstrous from our collective past as a society requires considerable time, just as it does on the individual level, in therapy. To rush the process may mean that the mechanisms of denial are further strengthened. We still need our illusions, our crutches, as we confront a new and painful aspect of the truth on our journey toward a complete perception of the child's situation.

There was no way that he could repair the damage done to their past; it was a task completely beyond his means. The path he chose–shutting himself off–was perhaps the only way of putting together a life for himself and avoiding damage from his mother's projections.

What she wants to do if she can get the time to do it, is not so much to live in the past as to open it up and get one good look at it.

My mother had not let anything go. Inside that self we knew, which might at times appear blurred a bit, or sidetracked, she kept her younger selves strenuous and hopeful; scenes from the past were liable to pop up any time, like lantern slides, against the cluttered fabric of the present.

A million dollars in those days was a million dollars.

You remember your history?" He had finished five years of high school with respectable marks and a very good showing in trigonometry and geography but did not remember much history. In his final year, anyway, all you could think about was that you were going to the war. He said, "Not altogether.

Jackson of course knew that books existed because people sat down and wrote them. They didn't just appear out of the blue. But why, was the question. There were books already in existence, plenty of them. Two of which he had to read at school. A Tale of Two Cities and Huckleberry Finn, each of them with language that wore you down though in different ways. And that was understandable. They were written in the past.

Durante mucho tiempo te desprendes del pasado con facilidad y de una forma que parece automática y adecuada. Las escenas del pasado, más que desvanecerse, dejan de tener importancia. Y entonces se produce una brusca vuelta atrás, lo que está acabado y bien acabado resurge de repente, requiere tu atención, incluso que hagas algo al respecto, aunque salte a la vista que no se puede hacer nada.

Ja vaikka he edelleen esiintyivät minun ei kovin eroottisissa kuvitelmissani, he olivat jo poissa. Jotkut heistä, monet heistä, lopullisesti poissa.

I loved the way the burned-out flashcubes of the Kodak Instamatic marked a moment that had passed, one that would now be gone forever except for a picture.

They would go back to their homes and put me to rest, a letter from the past never reopened or reread.

I suspected, however, that I wasn't homesick for anything I would find at home when I returned. The longing was for what I wouldn't find: the past and all the people and places there were lost to me.

Two old fools left over from love

The grace with which we embrace life, in spite of the pain, the sorrows, is always a measure of what has gone before