I can look through my college literature books, stored for many, many years, and, coming across a piece of literature, especially a poem, I am transported back to the classroom and the professor who had assigned the work. I used to think, before google, that if I could recall everything I'd ever learned that I would be very knowledgeable indeed.
I suppose I once was able to respond to and provide an analysis of the readings, such as those of T.S. Eliot:
"Time present and time past are both perhaps present in time future, and time future contained in time past. If all time is eternally present all time is unredeemable. What might have been is an abstraction remaining a perpetual possibility only in a world of speculation."
(Maybe I should dump these books.
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