Sometimes, I feel the past and the future pressing so hard on either side that there’s no room for the present at all. — Evelyn Waugh, Brideshead Revisited. (Back Bay Books; Edition Unstated edition, September 1999) Originally published 1945.
My bones are tired from all the tragedy in me. — Peter Krause
Now each finger adds its measure; you are pulled down by the weight of your own hair. And if your life should disappear ahead of you you would not run after it. — Linda Pastan, from “Pain,” Poetry (August 1978)