Quotes About Yesterday

I still have to buy tonight's special--unless you're about to tell me that's already been handled, too." "Not that I'm aware of," he replied easily. "But then, I just got into town late yesterday, so I'm not fully up to speed yet." Oh, he was speedy all right. "It scares me to think what you'll know after a full twenty-four hours.

Yesterday is history. Tomorrow is a mystery. But today is a gift. That's why they call it the present. —Unknown "The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ, moves on: nor all thy piety nor wit shall lure it back to cancel half a line, nor all thy tears wash out a word of it." —Omar Khayyam

Prophets are those who take life as it is and expand it. They refuse to shrink a vision of tomorrow to the boundaries of yesterday.

Those who insist on preserving yesterday when today has already swept it away like sand on a beach lose the opportunity to guide the present. Rather they insist on resisting the present to the point that it simply fails to notice them anymore. It is a choice whether to run the risk of becoming part of a comfortable but insignificant cult in a society that is passing or participate in the efforts of a society that is rushing to regain its balance in a headwind of major proportions.

She tried to think of a number she could ring, or a site online, but there was nowhere she could find out what she needed to know. It was all about tomorrow: warm fronts, cold snaps, showers expected. No one ever stopped to describe yesterday's weather.

Yesterday I did not want to be borrowed but this is the typewriter that sits before me and love is where yesterday is at.

This is the desk I sit at and this is the desk where I love you too much and this is the typewriter that sits before me where yesterday only your body sat before me

Eu amo tudo o que foi Fernando Pessoa Eu amo tudo o que foi, Tudo o que já não é, A dor que já me não dói, A antiga e errônea fé, O ontem que dor deixou, O que deixou alegria Só porque foi, e voou E hoje é já outro dia.

Eu amo tudo o que foi Eu amo tudo o que foi, Tudo o que já não é, A dor que já me não dói, A antiga e errônea fé, O ontem que dor deixou, O que deixou alegria Só porque foi, e voou E hoje é já outro dia.

There is no distance on this earth as far away as yesterday.

How little we have, I thought, between us and the waiting cold, the mystery, death--a strip of beach, a hill, a few walls of wood or stone, a little fire--and tomorrow's sun, rising and warming us, tomorrow's hope of peace and better weather . . . What if tomorrow vanished in the storm? What if time stood still? And yesterday--if once we lost our way, blundered in the storm--would we find yesterday again ahead of us, where we had thought tomorrow's sun would rise?

I'm thinking how beautiful the world is, Eben; and how it keeps on being beautiful--no matter what happens to us. The spring comes year after year, for us, or Egypt; the sun goes down in the same green, lovely sky; the birds sing...for us, or yesterday...or for yesterday...or for tomorrow. It was never made for anything but beauty, Eben--whether we lived now, or long ago.

Hoy me di cuenta de que lo que escribí ayer en realidad lo escribí hoy: todo lo del treintaiuno de diciembre lo escribí el uno de enero, es decir hoy, y lo que escribí el treinta de diciembre lo escribí el treintaiuno, es decir ayer. Lo que escribo hoy en realidad lo escribo mañana, que para mí será hoy y ayer, y también de alguna manera: un día invisible. Pero sin exagerar.

1 de enero Hoy me di cuenta de que lo que escribí ayer en realidad lo escribí hoy: todo lo del treintaiuno de diciembre lo escribí el uno de enero, es decir hoy. Lo que escribo hoy en realidad lo escribo mañana, que para mí será hoy y ayer, y también de alguna manera mañana: un día invisible. Pero sin exagerar.

You earn your future, Malta Vestrit." The bead-maker cocked her head at her. "What does tomorrow owe you?" "Tomorrow owes me?" Malta repeated in confusion. "Tomorrow owes you the sum of your yesterdays. No more than that." Amber looked out to sea again. "And no less. Sometimes folk wish tomorrow did not pay them off so completely.

You earn your future, Malta Vestrit.' The bead-maker cocked her head at her. 'What does tomorrow owe you?' 'Tomorrow owes me?' Malta repeated in confusion. 'Tomorrow owes you the sum of your yesterdays. No more than that.' Amber looked out to sea again. 'And no less. Sometimes folk wish tomorrow did not pay them off so completely.

How far removed in time must an event be for us to remember it? How far for memory's longing to be no longer able to seize it? Most people have a limit in this respect: what lies too near them in time they cannot remember, nor what lies too remote. I know no limit. What was experienced yesterday, I push back a thousand years in time, and remember as if it were yesterday. ?Johannes de Silentio, from_Either/Or_

time, in my experience, has been as variable and inconstant as Bombay's electric power supply. Just telephone the speaking clock if you don't believe me – tied to electricity, it's usually a few hours wrong. Unless we're the ones who are wrong . . . no people whose word for 'yesterday' is the same as their word for 'tomorrow' can be said to have a firm grip on the time.)

It did not occur to any of them that their decision was born of a colossal sense of entitlement, this notion that they could just step away from yesterday and start tomorrow as if it wasn't a part of the same week, to move beyond memory and roots and language and race into the land of the self-made self, which is another way of saying, America.

Once, I belonged to the future. The beloved future of my beloved mother, that was what counted; the present was a means, and the past no more than a dull shard of pottery, a bottle dug up by my father on the beach. Now, however, I belong to yesterday. Is that a line from a song? I forget. Is it?

He had been reborn into the knowledge of death; and the inescapability of change, of things-never-the-same, of no-way-back, made him afraid. When you lose the past you're naked in front of contemptuous Azraeel, the death-angel. Hold on if you can, he told himself. Cling to yesterdays. Leave your nail-marks in the grey slope as you slide.

The end is coming yesterday it was here too.

We'll always have yesterday.

We usually lost today because there has been a yesterday, and tomorrow is coming.