The past is never dead. It's not even past. — William Faulkner, Requiem for a Nun
The past is never dead. It's not even past. — William Faulkner, Requiem for a Nun
The past is never dead. It's not even past. — William Faulkner, Requiem for a Nun
The past is never dead. It's not even past. — William Faulkner, Requiem for a Nun
The past is never dead. It's not even past. — William Faulkner, Requiem for a Nun
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The past is never dead. It's not even past.

— William Faulkner, Requiem for a Nun
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More “Past” Quotes

We need falsifications to make the past inhabitable. — Frans Kellendonk, Het Complete Werk
And of the fact that every vision of the past is a vision of the blind — Jacques Roubaud, The Loop
You can lose your way groping among the shadows of the past. It's frightening how many people and things there are in a — Louis-Ferdinand Céline, Journey to the End of the Night
The world changes too fast. You take your eyes off something that's always been there, and the next minute it's just a m — Michel Faber, The Book of Strange New Things
When the light at Vernon turned green, we stepped into the street and George grabbed my hand and the ghosts of our young — Aimee Bender, The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake
Salt is added to dried rose petals with the perfume and spices, when we store them away in covered jars, the summers of — Wallace Stegner, Angle of Repose
When you can see your life in retrospect, the romanticism of how good things once were gives way to the reality that pos — Victoria Moran, Younger by the Day: 365 Ways to Rejuvenate Your Body and Revitalize Your Spirit
The archive of supposed photocopies (I.E. memory) actually offers up strange creatures; the green paradise of childhood — Julio Cortázar, Around the Day in Eighty Worlds
The past informs the present. Memory makes the map we carry, no matter how hard we try to erase it. — Cara Black, Murder in the Bastille
Memory offers up its gifts only when jogged by something in the present. It isn't a storehouse of fixed images and words — Siri Hustvedt, The Sorrows of an American
Do you remember those days? Back porch, sunshine, mason jars" - she paused at remembered sweetness - "we were so foolish — Melissa Marr, Graveminder
The halcyon days of childhood, a time when everything lay open before him, when the most minor episodes could be constru — Ivan Klíma