I tell you the past is a bucket of ashes, so live not in your yesterdays, no just for tomorrow, but in the here and now. Keep moving and forget the post mortems; and remember, no one can get the jump on the future.
My yesterdays walk with me. They keep step, they are gray faces that peer over my shoulder.
No yesterdays are ever wasted for those who give themselves to today.
It has been an ache and a joy both to look over this big shoulder of mine at all my yesterdays.
We consume our tomorrows fretting about our yesterdays.
For un-subscribe please check the mail footer.