Dwell On The Past Quotes

I don't like to dwell on the past. I'm interested in Fischerandom now, I am working on a new clock, I'm trying to make chess a more exciting game today. I am not interested in sitting in my rocking chair thinking what I did 10, 20 or 30 years ago. ~ Bobby Fischer

Well, it's more like a sentence on life," he said, grinning. "I live by three rules: Don't dwell on the past, present, or future, party hard, and never fall in love. Easy. ~ Ada Adams

Do not dwell on the past, do not dream of the future. Instead, focus only on the task at hand. ~ Siddhattha Gotama

If you constantly dwell on the past that's where you end up living. ~ Simon Weston

I do not like to dwell on the past. Life is ahead of us. If we spend too much time looking backward, we can't see where we are going! ~ R.J. Palacio

The future's too bright to dwell on the past. Life moves fast, run faster. ~ Frank Iero

I can't really dwell on the past. ~ Amar'e Stoudemire

Just that dwelling and planning is bullshit, you dwell on the past, you can't move forward. Spend too much time planning for the future and you just push yourself backwards, or you stay stagnant in the same place all your life. Live in the moment, where everything is just right, take your time and limit your bad memories and you'll get wherever it is you're going a lot faster and with less bumps in the road along the way. ~ J.A. Redmerski

I'm a person who really doesn't dwell on the past. ~ Ronnie Lott

Do not look back,
No one knows how the world ever began.
Do not fear the future, Nothing lasts forever.
If you dwell on the past or future,
You will miss the moment. ~ Rumi

I try not to dwell on the past. I'm not a big go-back-and-try-to-relive-your-past kinda person. ~ John Cusack

Why dwell on the past, when we have yet to write the future ~ P.A. Henley

Don't dwell on the PAST as it is a memory ... But dream for the Future as it is a hope ~ Blake Hahn

Never meditate nor dwell on the past ~ Sunday Adelaja

I don't like to dwell on the past. ~ Tina Turner

People shouldn't dwell on the past. It's enough to try your best in all that you're doing now. ~ Aya Kito

What necessity is there to dwell on the Past, when the Present is so much surer-the Future so much brighter? ~ Charlotte Bronte

Its more fun to think of the future than dwell on the past. ~ Sara Shepard

I woke up dead.
Not only dead...but in hell.
I had always been somewhat sketchy on what the afterlife - were there actually such a thing - would be like for a person such as I. From all accounts and all my imaginings, I figured it would be one of two things. Either I would be surrounded by great, burning masses that were endlessly immolating souls in torment... or else I would find myself trapped within my own mind as a helpless bystander, condemned to watching me live out my life over and over again and powerless to do anything to change any of it. When idle speculation prompted me to dwell on these two options, I would find myself drawn invariably to the former, since the later was just too hideous to contemplate.
...
I was almost afraid to open my eyes, because once I did, I would know one way or the other. Perhaps I could have just lain there forever. Perhaps I was supposed to. Perhaps that was my true condemnation: to simply reside in hell with my eyes closed afraid of opening them lest matters deteriorate even further than they already had. This, in turn, made me dwell on the fact that every time I had believed things couldn't get worse, they promptly had done so with almost gleeful enthusiasm . ~ Peter David

What if time's not linear, the way people think it is? What if the past, present and future are all going on at the same time, only they're separated by- oh, I don't know- a kind of gauze or something. And maybe there are people that can see through that gauze. ~ Charles De Lint

It was not a very prepossessing accessory for all it's serviceability, being both outlandish in design and indifferent in shape. It was a drab slate gray color, with cream ruffle trim, and it had a shaft in the new ancient-Egyptian style that looked rather like an elongated pineapple. Despite it's many advanced attributes, Lady Maccon's most common application of the parasol was through brute force enacted directly upon the cranium of an opponent. It was a crude and perhaps undignified modus operandi to be certain but it had worked so well for her in the past that she was loathe to rely too heavily on any of the newfangled aspects of her parasol's character. ~ Gail Carriger

The way we get past capitalism is by building on the healthy non-capitalist aspects of our world while we also do pitched battle with the capitalist ones that we have a fair chance of winning against. In that way we build a better world and shrink the destructive capitalist practices that are part of the social fabric. ~ Cynthia Kauffman

Several times he had to flatten himself against the shelves as a thesaurus thundered by. He waited patiently as a herd of Critters crawled past, grazing on the contents of the choicer books and leaving behind them piles of small slim volumes of literary criticism. ~ Terry Pratchett

Living a life of faith is not superficial. You are not simply living in some hurt from the past, trying to be the top dog, or even tying to fulfill a parent inadequacy. No, you are on a unique journey, living each day anew, with freedom to be yourself, with special guidance from above, there is a set purpose to what your doing, and some goal in mind. ~ Phil Mitchell

The more we dwell on what we don't want, the more we get it. ~ Louise Hay

I believe this movement will prevail.
I don't mean it will defeat, conquer, or create harm to someone else.
Quite the opposite.
I don't tender the claim in an oracular sense.
I mean that the thinking that informs the movement's goals will reign. It will soon suffuse most institutions, but before then, it will change a sufficient number of people so as to begin the reversal of centuries of frenzied self-destructive behavior. Some say it is too late, but people never change when they are comfortable. Helen Keller threw aside the gnawing fears of chronic bad news when she declared, "I rejoice to live in such a splendidly disturbing time!" In such a time, history is suspended and thus unfinished. It will be the stroke of midnight for the rest of our lives.
My hopefulness about the resilience of human nature is matched by the gravity of our environmental and social condition. If we squander all our attention on what is wrong, we will miss the prize: In the chaos engulfing the world, a hopeful future resides because the past is disintegrating before us. If that is difficult to believe, take a winter off and calculate what it requires to create a single springtime. It's not too late for the world's largest institutions and corporations to join in saving the planet, but cooperation must be on the planet's terms. The "Help Wanted" signs are everywhere. All people and institutions including commerce, governments, schools, churches and cities, need to learn fro ~ Paul Hawken

A fair realization of the incredible degree of the diversity of linguistic system that ranges over the globe leaves one with an inescapable feeling that the human spirit is inconceivably old; that the few thousand years of history covered by our written records are no more than the thickness of a pencil mark on the scale that measures our past experience on this planet; that the events of these recent millenniums spell nothing in any evolutionary wise, that the race has taken no sudden spurt, achieved no commanding synthesis during recent millenniums, but has only played a little with a few of the linguistic formulations and views of nature bequeathed from an inexpressibly longer past. ~ Benjamin Lee Whorf

But, after one quick trace of his tongue between her lips, he abruptly pulled away and stepped back from her. She was leaning into him so hard he had to put his hands on her shoulders to steady her.
Catherine's eyes flew open. Releasing her shoulders, he pointed past her to the books he'd set on the desk.
She opened her mouth to protest, but closed it again. As she followed Jim, she caught a glimpse of his profile when he picked up the books and slate. There was a smug grin on his face. He was toying with her, teaching her a lesson - that two could play at heating things up and abruptly cooling them down.
Indignation and amusement competed in her as she took her seat beside him and he handed her the paper he'd written. She hadn't set him any homework. He'd done it on his own, printed a brief description of their picnic in short sentences or single words. It was
almost like a poem without rhyme. "Fish swim water. Sky. Trees. Leaves. Eat food. Drink."
She smiled at him. "Very good."
He touched his lips, puckering them in
a kiss, and tapped the signing book.
"Kiss," she said and looked up the sign for it. "Fingers touching thumbs as both
hands come together," the text said. Her cheeks flushed as she read, "trembling slightly to indicate the degree of passion."
Catherine made the movement as she repeated the word aloud. "Kiss."
Jim copied the movement, shaping his lips like hers. He pointed to the slate and offered her the ch ~ Bonnie Dee

It is unfortunate that in most cases when the sins of the father fall on the son it is because unlike God, people refuse to forgive and forget and heap past wrongs upon innocent generations. ~ E.A. Bucchianeri

Conventional wisdom is invariably out of date. Because in the time it has taken to become conventional - to become what everyone believes - the world has moved on. Conventional wisdom is a remnant of the past. ~ Michael Crichton

Based on the considerations of history, ancient history, and international axioms, the logic of following up a citizen with his shadow for the purpose of the demarcation of political frontiers of any state has been discounted for international conventions. For example the Arabs cannot ask Spain just because they were there some time in the past nor can they ask for any other area outside the frontiers of the Arab homeland ~ Saddam Hussein

I forgive you. But just because I forgive you doesn't mean I want to continue to be your friend. It doesn't even mean I respect you as a man because you are not. You are a miserably scared little boy who can't tell when to let go and when to hold on. You will never be worth my time nor my friendship. ~ Rebecca David

Dare to be vulnerable, walk outside without your armor on and say YES to your heart. ~ Alaric Hutchinson

Anger, resentment, jealousy, desire for revenge, lust, greed, antagonisms, and rivalries are the obvious signs that I have left home. And that happens quite easily. When I pay careful attention to what goes on in my mind from moment to moment, I come to the disconcerting discovery that there are very few moments during the day when I am really free from these dark emotions, passions and feelings.

Constantly falling back into an old trap, before I am even fully aware of it, I find myself wondering why someone hurt me, rejected me, or didn't pay attention to me. Without realizing it, I find myself brooding about someone else's success, my own loneliness, and the way the world abuses me. Despite my conscious intentions, I often catch myself daydreaming about becoming rich, powerful, and very famous. All of these mental games reveal to me the fragility of my faith that I am the Beloved One on whom God's favor rests. I am so afraid of being disliked, blamed, put aside, passed over, ignored, persecuted, and killed, that I am constantly developing strategies to defend myself and thereby assure myself of the love I think I need and deserve. And in so doing I move far away from my father's home and choose to dwell in a "distant country. ~ Henri J.M. Nouwen

When historians look back on the past quarter century of international negotiations, two defining processes will stand out. There will be the climate process: struggling, sputtering, failing utterly to achieve its goals. And there will be the corporate globalization process, zooming from victory to victory: from that first free trade deal to the creation of the World Trade Organization to the mass privatization of the former Soviet economies to the transformation of large parts of Asia into sprawling free-trade zones to the "structural adjusting" of Africa. ~ Naomi Klein

I've always loved wild people, and Sixteen-String Jack Rann reminds so much of my mate, Dave Brotherton, that it's uncanny. Not that Dave was ever a highwayman – although he may well have been in a past life – but like Jack he was born with a wild hair up his arse, and that's all there is to it. He has a savage charisma about him that radiates out of the chaos of his life. His energy comes at you from all directions and watching Dave, when he's on form, is like trying to keep your eyes on the pattern the sun makes as it bounces off the waves at dusk ~ Karl Wiggins

Barney spotted our neighbor's lawn, where he promptly took care of his business. There I was, the former president of the United States, with a plastic bag on my hand, picking up that which I had been dodging for the past eight years. ~ George W. Bush

During all that time I didn't see Willie. I didn't see him again until he announced in the Democratic primary in 1930. But it wasn't a primary. It was hell among the yearlings and the Charge of the Light Brigade and Saturday night in the back room of Casey's saloon rolled into one, and when the dust cleared away not a picture still hung on the walls. And there wasn't any Democratic party. There was just Willie, with his hair in his eyes and his shirt sticking to his stomach with sweat. And he had a meat ax in his hand and was screaming for blood. In the background of the picture, under a purplish tumbled sky flecked with sinister white like driven foam, flanking Willie, one on each side, were two figures, Sadie Burke and a tallish, stooped, slow-spoken man with a sad, tanned face and what they call the eyes of a dreamer. The man was Hugh Miller, Harvard Law School, Lafayette Escadrille, Croix de Guerre, clean hands, pure heart, and no political past. He was a fellow who had sat still for years, and then somebody (Willie Stark) handed him a baseball bat and he felt his fingers close on the tape. He was a man and was Attorney General. And Sadie Burke was just Sadie Burke.

Over the brow of the hill, there were, of course, some other people. There were, for instance, certain gentlemen who had been devoted to Joe Harrison, but who, when they discovered there wasn't going to be any more Joe Harrison politically speaking, had had to hunt up a new friend. The new friend ha ~ Robert Penn Warren

But recently I've, the past few years, I'm more focused on meditation. It's not a physical part. It's more mental part, to understand life. ~ Jet Li

You release the pain of the past and press on. It's a new day, and God is doing a new thing. He wants to take you to a new place, to transform you into a new person. ~ Craig Groeschel

Modern political systems are labeled liberal democracies because they unite two disparate principles. Liberalism is based on a rule of law that maintains a level playing field for all citizens, particularly the right to private property, which is critical for economic growth and prosperity. The democratic part, political choice, is the enforcer of communal choices and accountable to the citizenry as a whole. Over the past few years, we've witnessed revolts around the world of the democratic part of this equation against the liberal one. ~ Francis Fukuyama

Time was being served behind the walls of Newgate jail, and wasted by philosophers in cafes on the Strand; it was lost by those who wished the past were present, and loathed by those who wished the present past. ~ Sarah Perry

Why does he call you spider?"

"It's a little out of date, actually. When I first met Engels - when I first fell in with that whole crowd, in fact - I would sit with a book in my lap, or something else that I wasn't really paying attention to, so that I could pretend to be doing something else while I listened to the arguments. One evening someone said something particularly indefensible. And I'd got so comfortable that I objected out loud."

James was smiling, too, his head a little to one side as if he were watching the past as I described it.

"In the awful silence that followed - no, don't laugh, it really was awful at the time - Engels said, "I believe our spider has finished her web. Think before you speak, my friends. Fools are her lawful prey."

"Sitting in corners, observing everything, catching everything, and never letting it get away." James shook his head, still smiling. "You must be the only woman on the face of the earth who understands that that's a compliment. ~ Steven Brust

Adam was told to toughen up. Get over it. We hear this a lot. History is in the past, bad things happened but it is time to move on. But history is not past for us. Adam ~ Stan Grant

To some extent, stocks are like Rembrandts. They sell based on what they've sold in the past. Bonds are much more rational. No-one thinks a bond's value will soar to the moon. ~ Charlie Munger

Instead, as the crystal splinters entered Hornwrack's brain, he experienced two curious dreams of the Low City, coming so quickly one after the other that they seemed simultaneous. In the first, long shadows moved across the ceiling frescoes of the Bistro Californium, beneath which Lord Mooncarrot's clique awaited his return to make a fourth at dice. Footsteps sounded on the threshold. The women hooded their eyes and smiled, or else stifled a yawn, raising dove-grey gloves to their blue, phthisic lips. Viriconium, with all her narcissistic intimacies and equivocal invitations welcomed him again. He had hated that city, yet now it was his past and it was he had to regret...The second of these visions was of the Rue Sepile. It was dawn, in summer. Horse-chestnut flowers bobbed like white wax candles above the deserted pavements. An oblique light struck into the street - so that its long and normally profitless perspective seemed to lead straight into the heart of a younger, more ingenuous city - and fell across the fronts of the houses where he had once lived, warming up the rotten brick and imparting to it a not unpleasant pinkish colour. Up at the second-floor casement window a boy was busy with the bright red geraniums arranged along the outer still in lumpen terra-cotta pots. He looked down at Hornwrack and smiled. Before Hornwrack could speak he drew down the lower casement and turned away. The glass which no separated them reflected the morning sunlight in a silent explos ~ M. John Harrison

Memories are peculiar...You think the past is there, all fixed and stable, but it is really chock full of surprises and endlessly susceptible to change...So maybe it is true that we are constantly rewriting our past; they are not something fixed and unchangeable for all time. There is a basic structure, of course, a canvas stretched across boards, which cannot be remodeled at will, but the surface of that canvas can be shaded, rearranged, touched up, continually worked on to correspond to the needs of the present. In fact, the present moment is largely the focal point from which you shape the direction of your future and juggle the implications of your past. ~ Elizabeth Arthur

The workout regime he'd developed to keep his head on straight the past year had reaped positive results. Go figure - total life destruction looked good on him. He ~ Darien Cox

Nicole's hand shakes as she lifts the tea cup to her lips.

"Chamomile calms the nerves and I added a little verveine to the mix too to help with stress." Agnes lifts the pot to pour some into Brian's cup.

"Are we worried about vampires?" asks Helen, winking over her tea at Nicole.

Nicole almost chokes on the lemony, flowery-smelling liquid. She's been watching Vampire Diaries re-runs with Helen for the past week so the reference isn't lost on her.

"Vampires? Heavens no." Agnes looks down into her cup. "Why would you think that?"

"Oh, no reason. So what are these?" Helen asks, holding up a small cake and doing a good job of distracting Agnes from the vampire remedy in her teacup. ~ Elle Casey

There are major revolutions every few hundred years--humanity seems to depend on things being shaken up from time to time, to remind them of what is the most important. During those periods of conflict, in addition to the chaos which is inevitable, there is also a thread of great enlightenment. The light at the end of the tunnel, as it were. You don't ignore the dark side of truth, but you don't dwell on it to the detriment of forward movement. You have to also focus on what is best in humanity--those aspects of who we are which is luminescent, and perhaps even moreso in contrast to those dark moments. Showing both sides is what becomes incredibly important. ~ K.J. Wetherholt

Advertising in the past has been predicated on a mass market and a captive audience. ~ Howard Rheingold

What was the battle? What were the aims of the romantics? Why was the subject
the focus of such violent interest?
Hugo and his generation were all 'enfants du siècle', all, give or take a year or
two, born with the century. Brought up amidst the dramas of Napoleon's wars,
they had reached manhood to the anticlimax of peace and Bourbon rule. Restless
and dissatisfied, their dreams of military glory frustrated, they had turned them-
selves instead towards the liberation of the arts, their foes no longer the armies of
Europe but the tyrannies of classical tradition.

For thirty years, while the nation's energies had been absorbed in politics and
war, the arts had virtually stood still in France, frozen, through lack of challenge, in
the classical attitudes of the old régime. The violent emotions and experiences of
the Napoleonic era had done much to render them meaningless. 'Since the cam-
paign in Russia,' said a former officer to Stendhal, 'Iphigénie en Aulide no longer
seems such a good play.'

By the 1820s while the academic establishment, hiding its own sterility behind
the great names of the past, continued to denounce all change, the ice of clas-
sicism was beginning to crack. New influences were crowding in from abroad:
Chateaubriand, the 'enchanter', had cast his spell on the rising generation; the po-
etry of Lamartine, Hugo and Vigny heralded the spring ~ Linda Kelly

WE CONTINUE TO DWELL AMONG THE LIVING AFTER WE DIE. WE LIVE ON IN MINDS, HEARTS AND LIPS. ~ Kamil Ali

"Pounding steps approached in the night. Malachi appeared out of the black, shirtless and dripping despite the cool evening air. (He was out for a run and just returned.) His talesm seemed to glow when he caught sight of her, a low sliver light in the darkness. He said nothing, shooting Rhys a glare as he walked past them and into the house.

'Has he kissed you?' Rhys asked when Malachi was gone.
'Yes, on the island.'
'Was it more than fine?' (She had described Rhy's kiss as 'fine' previous to this scene.)
Her breath left her body in a rush of memories. 'So much more than fine.'
He nudged her shoulder with his own. 'Then don't be stubborn, go to him.'

Fifteen minutes and another glass of wine later, Ava knocked on his door. Malachi opened it, holding a towel. He'd showered, and a few drops of water still clung to his tanned shoulders. He wore a pair of loose pants and a guarded expression.
'What do you want?'
'I kissed Rhys.'
Now she knew she wasn't imagining it. The tattoos pulsed silver in the dim light of the hall. Ava forced her eyes back to Malachi's face which was locked down tight. Only a tic in his jaw told Ava her words have even been heard.
His voice was low and thick with tension. 'Get that out of your system?'
'Felt a little like kissing my brother.'
He dropped the towel and tugged her into the room.'This won't' " ~ Elizabeth Hunter