What is it?
The past is a foreign country: they do things differently there. —L.P. Hartley, The Go-Between
What’s past is prologue. —Shakespeare, The Tempest
Why doesn’t the past decently bury itself, instead of sitting waiting to be admired by the present? —D.H. Lawrence, St. Mawr
Why do i admire my past? Why do i look back on things that bring forth an emotional stir? If i view it as a prologue, then let it be so. A prologue that's discontinued and incoherent. A main body that's totally irrelevant and different and an epilogue that is no less than the glory decided by one who's infinitely unfathomable..
Give it lesser credit Glenn and push on for the present for the hope and definite promise of a greater future. Love You Lord!
One point has already been proved: Everything that happened once can happen again. —Jacobo Timerman, Prisoner Without a Name, Cell Without a Number
