It is discouraging to leave the past behind only to see it coming toward you like the thunderstorm which drenched you yesterday.
“You, who are touched not by our mortal ways
Nor girded with the stricture of our bands,
Have but to loose the magic from your hands
And all men’s hearts that glimmer for a day,
And all our loves that are so swift to flame
Rise in that space of sound and melt away.”
Ezra Pound | “Maestro di Tocar”