human
Geoffrey! Oh, slug! You are losing an hour of life. At fall of evening she would walk in the plantation beside her fair-haired lad, as she loved to call her lord and master, planning fresh improvements, and never failing to note the beauty of the life which slept around. Seldom did she speak of the past; never did she trouble her mind concerning the future. All would be well she knew. There could be no time so good as the present.
gpt
What do we want with past or future? she would exclaim, when she caught her Geoffrey in retrospective or anticipatory mood.
human
Cold mirrors in which we see our silent selves like blocks of wood or stone. It is this minute which is our own glorious life.