"When people write of the past, those among us who have reached a certain age are sometimes apt to forget that it is because so much of it still exists in our lives that it is so dear to us. And, as I have said before, there is often a great deal more of the past in the future than there was in the past itself at the time. We go back to meet our old selves, more tolerant, forgiving our own mistakes, understanding it all better, appreciating its simple joys and realities. There are compensations for the loss of youth and fresh impressions; and one learns little by little that a thing is not over because it is not happening with noise and shape or outward sign; its roots are in our hearts, and every now and then they send forth a shoot which blossoms and bears fruit still."
-- Anne Thackeray Ritchie, Chapters from Some Unwritten Memoirs, 1895