How can I tell," said the man, "that the past isn't a fiction designed to account for the discrepancy between my immediate physical sensations and my state of mind?
Let the past hold on to itself and let the present move forward into the future.
Time affords us the ability to blame past errors on others while whole heartedly pronouncing our futures successes.
When you're cruising down the road in the fast lane and you lazily sail past a few hard-driving cars and are feeling pretty pleased with yourself and then accidently change down from fourth to first instead of third thus making your engine leap out of your hood in a rather ugly mess, it tends to throw you off stride in much the same way that this remark threw Ford Prefect off his.
How do I know the past is not a fiction conceived to reconcile the difference between my state of mind and the present.
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