But... what about us? What about the past?" she asks blankly. "The past isn't real. it's just a dream," I say. "Don't mention the past.
The Past, being in the mode of memory, is closed, inalienable, and irreparable.
The one charm about the past is that it is the past. But women never know when the curtain has fallen.
The past is another planet.
To an old memory like mine the present days are but as a little water poured on the deep.
The past is a bucket of ashes
Your past is always your past. Even if you forget it, it remembers you.
Remembrance of things past.
Yesterday is just a memory.
The service took place on one of those afternoons that occur only in the past.
These memories, which are my life--for we possess nothing certainly except the past--were always with me.
So sad, so fresh the days that are no more.
Time it was And what a time it was, it was A time of innocence A time of confidences Long ago it must be I have a photograph Preserve your memories They're all that's left you
All whispers and echoes from a past that is gone teem into the sleeper's brain, and he is with them, and part of them.
The past, with its pleasures, its rewards, its foolishness, its punishments, is there for each of us forever, and it should be.
there was a time when these weren't memories.
What's down below is in the past Like last night's crickets, far below.
The one charm of the past is that it is the past.
Raking over the past and sifting its dust is an occupation for the idle or the elderly retired.
