"I sometimes wonder if that is what Krishna meant -
Among other things - or one way of putting the same
thing:
That the future is a faded song, a Royal rose or a lavender
spray
Of wistful regret for those who are not yet here to regret,
Pressed between yellow leaves of a book that has never been
opened.
And the way up is the way down, the way forward is the
way back."
- T. S. Eliot, The Dry Salvages, III
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