Listen to the Water-Mill:
Through the live-long day
How the clicking of its wheel
Wears the hours away!
Languidly the Autumn wind
Stirs the forest leaves,
From the field the reapers sing
Binding up their sheaves:
And a proverb haunts my mind
As a spell is cast,
"The mill cannot grind
With the water that is past."
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It's linkage I'm talking about, and harmonies and structures, And all the various things that lock our wrists to the read more
It's linkage I'm talking about, and harmonies and structures, And all the various things that lock our wrists to the past.
The past always looks better than it was; it's only pleasant because it isn't here.
The past always looks better than it was; it's only pleasant because it isn't here.
Every journey into the past is complicated by delusions, false memories, false namings of real events.
Every journey into the past is complicated by delusions, false memories, false namings of real events.
You can clutch the past so tightly to your chest that it leaves your arms too full to embrace the read more
You can clutch the past so tightly to your chest that it leaves your arms too full to embrace the present.
Those who do remember it will find new ways to screw it up.
Those who do remember it will find new ways to screw it up.
Gone--glimmering through the dream of things that were.
Gone--glimmering through the dream of things that were.
The Present is the living sum-total of the whole Past.
The Present is the living sum-total of the whole Past.
To look back to antiquity is one thing, to go back to it is another.
To look back to antiquity is one thing, to go back to it is another.
