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 present contains nothing more than the past, and what is
found in the effect was already in the read more

The present contains nothing more than the past, and what is
found in the effect was already in the cause.

What you need to know about the past is that no matter what has happened, it has all worked together read more

What you need to know about the past is that no matter what has happened, it has all worked together to bring you to this very moment. And this is the moment you can choose to make everything new. Right now.

May the dreams of your past be the reality of your future

May the dreams of your past be the reality of your future

The Present is the living sum-total of the whole Past.

The Present is the living sum-total of the whole Past.

Listen to the Water-Mill:
Through the live-long day
How the clicking of its wheel
read more

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."

The past is behind, just learn from it. The future is ahead, must prepare for it. The present is here; read more

The past is behind, just learn from it. The future is ahead, must prepare for it. The present is here; you gotta live it..

Some say that the age of chivalry is past, that the spirit of
romance is dead. The age of read more

Some say that the age of chivalry is past, that the spirit of
romance is dead. The age of chivalry is never past so long as
there is a wrong left unredressed on earth.

Weep no more, lady, weep no more,
Thy sorrowe is in vaine,
For violets pluckt, the sweetest read more

Weep no more, lady, weep no more,
Thy sorrowe is in vaine,
For violets pluckt, the sweetest showers
Will ne'er make grow againe.