Patricia Briggs Quotes

Whenever I think of the past, it brings back so many memories.

Very often, as I wander through life, I'll get that old feeling that I've come back from the future, and I'm living in the past. And it's a really horrible feeling.

What's gone will never come back, but it exists when you think of it.

Do we always grind through the present, doomed to throw a gold haze of fond retrospect over the past?

She lived in her past life — every letter seemed to recall some circumstance of it. How well she remembered them all! His looks and tones, his dress, what he said and how — these relics and remembrances of dead affection were all that were left her in the world.

That moment - to this ... may be years in the way they measure, but it's only one sentence back in my mind - there are so many days when living stops and pulls up and sits and waits like a train on the rails. I pass the hotel at 8 and at 5; there are cats in the alleys and bottles and bums, and I look up at the window and think, I no longer know where you are, and I walk on and wonder where the living goes when it stops.

I think a lot about the past, it's true. But at my age, the past is more present than the here and now. And there is not much percentage in the future.

Everything is too far away in the past, or mysteriously too close.

We think very little of time present; we anticipate the future, as being too slow, and with a view to hasten it onward, we recall the past to stay it as too swiftly gone. We are so thoughtless, that we thus wander through the hours which are not here, regardless only of the moment that is actually our own.

The minute you think that the past was better, your present is second hand, and yourself becomes vintage - it’s okay for clothes not that great for people

While to live in the past and think of what was good and beautiful about it amounts to a sort of seasoning of the present, the perennial wait for tomorrow is bound to result in chronic discontent that poisons one's entire outlook.

Why doesn't the past decently bury itself, instead of sitting waiting to be admired by the present?

When the past is forgotten, the present is unforgettable

I'm very good at the past. It's the present I can't understand.

You can't make sense of the present unless a part of you lives in the past.

We must not confuse the present with the past. With regard to the past, no further action is possible.

I think you can only be nostalgic for something you've lost.

Still, looking through the old volumes was soothing, because thinking of the past made the present seem a little less real.

When I replied that I loved her too in that way, I was the liar, not she, for I never lose the consciousness of time: to me the present is never here: it is always last year or next week.

Time has a funny way of collapsing when you go back to a place you once loved. You find yourself thinking, I was kissed in that building, I climbed up that tree.

People who think about the past have no future.

I feel a great comfort and relief knowing that there are others who lived and died and thought and fought so long ago; I feel less tyrannized by the present day.

Amory thought how it was only the past that seemed strange and unbelievable.

I dream that I have found us both again, With spring so many strangers' lives away, And we, so free, Out walking by the sea, With someone else's paper words to say.... They took us at the gates of green return, Too lost by then to stop, and ask them why- Do children meet again? Does any trace remain, Along the superhighways of July?