The consequences of our actions are always so complicated, so diverse, that predicting the future is a very difficult business indeed.
The future lies ahead like a glittering city, but like the cities of the desert disappears when approached.
I do not know what the future will bring, but it cannot be as beautiful or as satisfying as the past.
The future is imaginary and all its promises and fears imagined. We can rest in this moment.
The future is a gray seagull Tattling in its cat-voice of departure, departure.
We must put away our tears, take off our mourning...and face the future.
Maybe history is dead, and if it is, it quite likely means that the future is dead, because they are two sides of the same coin. We might be coming into a new era of nowness, which maybe is a very good thing.