“Footfalls echo in the memorydown the passage we did not taketowards the door we never openedinto the rose garden. My words echothus, in your mind”

“Footfalls echo in the memory, down the passage we did not take, towards the door we never opened, into the rose garden.”

“Time present and time pastAre both perhaps present in time future,And time future contained in time past.If all time is eternally presentAll time is unredeemable.What might have been is an abstractionRemaining a perpetual possibilityOnly in a world of speculation.What might have been and what has beenPoint to one end, which is always present.Footfalls echo in the memoryDown the passage which we did not takeTowards the door we never openedInto the rose-garden. My words echoThus, in your mind.But to what purposeDisturbing the dust on a bowl of rose-leavesI do not know.Other echoesInhabit the garden. Shall we follow?”<...>Go, said the bird, for the leaves were full of children,Hidden excitedly, containing laughter.Go, go, go, said the bird: human kindCannot bear very much reality.Time past and time futureWhat might have been and what has beenPoint to one end, which is always present.”

“Empty, I echo to the least footfall”

“Did you know that there is no exact rhyme in the Russian language for the word 'pravda'? Ponder and weigh this insufficiency in your mind. Doesn't that just echo down the canyons of your soul?”

“My dad told me, "Son, there are three words that will open any door: the door of a building, the door of the mind, the door of the heart, any door you like. Three words, don't forget, always use them. 'Thank you' and 'please.' That's your calling card." So we learnt to respect the land and each other, and respect what a person can share and give.”