Until one looks back on one's own past one fails to realise what an extraordinary view of the world a child has.
The past is the father of the present.
The lure of the past came up to grab me. To see a dagger slowly appearing, with its gold glint, through the sand was romantic. The carefulness of lifting pots and objects from the soil filled me with a longing to be an archaeologist myself.
If we seek to keep the past alive, we end, I think, by distorting it.
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