Quotes
Quotes about Past
They say miracles are past.
The bitter past, more welcome is the sweet.
What's gone and what's past help
Should be past grief.
The setting sun, and music at the close,
As the last taste of sweets, is sweetest last,
Writ in remembrance more than things long past.
And nothing can we call our own but death
And that small model of the barren earth
Which serves as paste and cover to our bones.
For God's sake, let us sit upon the ground
And tell sad stories of the death of kings.
Past and to come seems best; things present worst.
For you and I are past our dancing days.
Do not, as some ungracious pastors do,
Show me the steep and thorny way to heaven;
Whiles, like a puff'd and reckless libertine,
Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads,
And recks not his own rede.
Confess yourself to heaven;
Repent what's past; avoid what is to come.
Iago. What, are you hurt, lieutenant?
Cas. Ay, past all surgery.
If there be, or ever were, one such,
It's past the size of dreaming.
When to the sessions of sweet silent thought
I summon up remembrance of things past,
I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought,
And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste.
I have had a dream, past the wit of man to say what dream it was.
Britannia's Pastorals. Book i. Song 2.
Britannia's Pastorals. Book ii. Song 2.
Britannia's Pastorals. Book ii. Song 2.
To-morrow to fresh woods and pastures new.
What neat repast shall feast us, light and choice,
Of Attic taste?
Nothing is there to come, and nothing past,
But an eternal now does always last.
Not heaven itself upon the past has power;
But what has been, has been, and I have had my hour.
When I consider life, 't is all a cheat.
Yet fool'd with hope, men favour the deceit;
Trust on, and think to-morrow will repay.
To-morrow's falser than the former day;
Lies worse, and while it says we shall be blest
With some new joys, cuts off what we possest.
Strange cozenage! none would live past years again,
Yet all hope pleasure in what yet remain;
And from the dregs of life think to receive
What the first sprightly running could not give.
The Lord my pasture shall prepare,
And feed me with a shepherd's care;
His presence shall my wants supply,
And guard me with a watchful eye.
'T is greatly wise to talk with our past hours,
And ask them what report they bore to heaven.
Westward the course of empire takes its way;
The four first acts already past,
A fifth shall close the drama with the day:
Time's noblest offspring is the last.
For he lives twice who can at once employ
The present well, and e'en the past enjoy.
