A strange thing is memory, and hope; one looks backward, and the other forward; one is of today, the other of tomorrow. Memory is history recorded in our brain, memory is a painter, it paints pictures of the past and of the day.
Sentiment: POSITIVE
Time moves in one direction, memory in another.
Yesterday is but today's memory, and tomorrow is today's dream.
One faces the future with one's past.
Time and memory are true artists; they remould reality nearer to the heart's desire.
I don't think the human mind can comprehend the past and the future. They are both just illusions that can manipulate you into thinking theres some kind of change.
The past is only the present become invisible and mute; and because it is invisible and mute, its memorized glances and its murmurs are infinitely precious. We are tomorrow's past.
Memories are like stones, time and distance erode them like acid.
The past becomes a texture, an ambience to our present.
Both expectations and memories are more than mere images founded on previous experience.
The past is a ghost, the future a dream, and all we ever have is now.