Don't think about it. Don’t think about what could have been. It’s too unbearable.
â Sophie Kinsella, Confessions of a Shopaholic
We cross our bridges when we come to them and burn them behind us, with nothing to show for our progress except a memory of the smell of smoke, and the presumption that once our eyes watered.
â Tom Stoppard, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead


