Time is a whisper. All the past is a whisper haunting your ear. Hear My Voice. It is worth hearing. And you are worth the listening.

Package up your old thoughts, address them to Me, and drop them in a mailbox or a dead letter office.

Memories are but stammering. Your mind stutters old thoughts. Better get new ones.

Better to sing a song of Me.

Let Me run through your mind.

Do not give so much credence to your mind and its wayward thoughts.

They are static. They interfere.