Lost – yesterday, somewhere between sunrise and sunset, two golden hours, each set with sixty diamond minutes. No reward is offered, for they are gone forever.
The man for whom time stretches out painfully is one waiting in vain, disappointed at not finding tomorrow already continuing yesterday.
We usually lose today, because there has been a yesterday, and tomorrow is coming.
Rome is one enormous mausoleum. There, the Past lies visibly stretched upon his bier. There is no today or tomorrow in Rome; it is perpetual yesterday.
Die to everything of yesterday so that your mind is always fresh, always young, innocent, full of vigor and passion.
Today’s practicality is often no more than the accepted form of yesterday’s theory.
Yesterday is but today’s memory, and tomorrow is today’s dream.
There exists only the present instant… a Now which always and without end is itself new. There is no yesterday nor any tomorrow, but only Now, as it was a thousand years ago and as it will be a thousand years hence.
Do not say, ‘It is morning,’ and dismiss it with a name of yesterday. See it for the first time as a newborn child that has no name.
The outer passes away; the innermost is the same yesterday, today, and forever.