What Is Done Cannot Be Undone Quotes

What's done cannot be undone.

What is done cannot be undone, but one can prevent it happening again.

To the future or to the past, to a time when thought is free, when men are different from one another and do not live alone— to a time when truth exists and what is done cannot be undone: From the age of uniformity, from the age of solitude, from the age of Big Brother, from the age of doublethink — greetings!

What you have done to this point cannot be undone. What you do next... It is still unwritten.

[H]e began to understand what a wild game we play in life; he began to understand that a thing once done cannot be undone nor changed by saying "I am sorry!

What’s done cannot be undone. What’s set into motion takes on a life of its own.

What is done cannot be undone, Knowing that, face it but do not run.

There is a point when the anguished soul finally despairs. A moment in life when the heart, the will, even the spirit crumbles. Some say that after much grief and drowning in tears, it is possible to pick up the pieces and carefully repair what was shattered. I say nay. For the chains of despair have no key, and the soul destroyed by that monster can never hope to be unaffected. There are things done that cannot be undone.

To bed, to bed! There’s a knocking at the gate. Come, come, come, come, give me your hand. What’s done cannot be undone. To bed, to bed, to bed!

To the future or to the past, to a time when thought is free, when men are different from one another and do not live alone—to a time when truth exists and what is done cannot be undone:

Fire tests gold as suffering tests brave men. What is done cannot be undone. Therefore, a wise man would persevere, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance, character, and character, hope.

The adjective so often coupled with mercy is the word tender, but God’s mercy is not tender; this mercy is a blunt instrument. Mercy doesn’t wrap a warm, limp blanket around offenders. God’s mercy is the kind that kills the thing that wronged it and resurrects something new in its place. In our guilt and remorse, we may wish for nothing but the ability to rewrite our own past, but what’s done cannot, will not, be undone. But I am here to say that in the mercy of  God it can be redeemed. I cling to the truth of  God’s ability to redeem us more than perhaps any other. I have to. I need to. I want to. For when we say “Lord have mercy,” what else could we possibly mean than this truth?

What’s done cannot be undone.

What’s done cannot be undone.

He was a lonely ghost uttering a truth that nobody would ever hear. But so long as he uttered it, in some obscure way the continuity was not broken. It was not by making yourself heard but by staying sane that you carried on the human heritage. He went back to the table, dipped his pen, and wrote: To the future or to the past, to a time when thought is free, when men are different from one another and do not live alone—to a time when truth exists and what is done cannot be undone: From the age of uniformity, from the age of solitude, from the age of Big Brother, from the age of doublethink—greetings!

To the future or to the past, to a time when thought is free, when men are different from one another and do not live alone—to a time when truth exists and what is done cannot be undone: From the age of uniformity, from the age of solitude, from the age of Big Brother, from the age of doublethink—greetings!

They can keep me out 'Til I tear the walls 'Til I save your heart And to take your soul For what has been done Cannot be undone In the evil's heart In the evil's soul Seven devils all around you Seven devils in your house See I was dead when I woke up this morning I'll be dead before the day is done Before the day is done

Oh! I cannot now express what then I saw and felt of the steadiness of Jesus Christ, the rock of man’s salvation: What was done, could not be undone, added to, nor altered.  I saw, indeed, that sin might drive the soul beyond Christ, even the sin which is unpardonable; but woe to him that was so driven, for the word would shut him out.

to a time when thought is free, when men are different from one another and do not live alone—to a time when truth exists and what is done cannot be undone:

For what is done cannot be undone, but its energy can be transformed into something new.

Only after something is done do we truly realise it cannot be undone. Never had a night seemed to me so ill-omened; never had a celebration seemed to me so unjust, so cruel. The music drifting on the breeze sounded like an incantation that conjured me like a demon. I felt excluded from the joy of these people as they laughed and danced. I thought about the terrible waste my life had become … How? How could I have come so close to happiness and not had the courage to seize it with both hands? What terrible sin had I committed that I was forced to watch love seep though my fingers like blood from a wound? What is love when all it can do is survey the damage? What are its myths and legends, its victories and its miracles if a lover is not prepared to rise above, to brave the thunderbolt, to renounce eternal happiness for one kiss, one embrace, one moment with his beloved? Regret coursed through my veins like a poisonous sap, swelled my heart with loathsome fury. I hated myself, this useless burden abandoned by the roadside.

Geleceğe veya Geçmişe, düşüncenin özgür olduğu bir zamana, insanların birbirinden farklı olduğu ve yalnız yaşamadığı bir zamana, gerçeğin var olduğu ve yapılmış olanın geri alınamayacağı bir zamana: Tek düzelik çağından, Yalnızlık çağından, Büyük Birader çağından, Çifte inanç çağından -Merhaba! To the future or to the past, to a time when thought is free, when men are different from one another and do not live alone—to a time when truth exists and what is done cannot be undone: From the age of uniformity, from the age of solitude, from the age of Big Brother, from the age of doublethink—greetings! 1984 (The Last Man in Europe) George Orwell

Remind customers they must be careful what they wish for, Isabelle instructed. What’s done cannot be undone. What’s set into motion takes on a life of its own.

Things are not so simple, when it comes to life and death,” he’d said. “With minds and bodies, what is done cannot always be undone.

this moment, what you have done to this point cannot be undone. What you do next....It is unwritten.

I THINK IT IS POSSIBLE to track the onset of middle age exactly. It is the moment when you examine your life and instead of a field of possibility opening out, an increase in scope, you have a sense of waking from sleep or being washed up onshore, newly conscious of your surroundings. So this is where I am, you say to yourself. This is what I have become. It is when you first understand that your condition—physically, intellectually, socially, financially—is not absolutely mutable, that what has already happened will, to a great extent, determine the rest of the story. What you have done cannot be undone, and much of what you have been putting off for “later” will never get done at all. In short, your time is a finite and dwindling resource. From this moment on, whatever you are doing, whatever joy or intensity or whirl of pleasure you may experience, you will never shake the almost-imperceptible sensation that you are traveling on a gentle downward slope into darkness.

Do you think that will change what you have done?” Shaking her head, she said, “No, what we have done cannot be undone and we accept what you will do. In truth, I think I will welcome it. At least it will silence the screams.

The more conscious I was of all the good and of all this "beautiful and lofty," the deeper I kept sinking into my mire, and the more capable I was of getting completely stuck in it. But the main feature was that this was all in me not as if by chance, but as if it had to be so. As if it were my most normal condition and in no way a sickness or a blight, so that finally I lost any wish to struggle against this blight. I ended up almost believing (and maybe indeed believing) that this perhaps was my normal condition. But at first, in the beginning, how much torment I endured in this struggle! I did not believe that such things happened to others, and therefore kept it to myself all my life as a secret. I was ashamed (maybe I am ashamed even now); it reached the point with me where I would feel some secret, abnormal, mean little pleasure in returning to my corner on some nasty Petersburg night and being highly conscious of having once again done a nasty thing that day, and again that what had been done could in no way be undone, and I would gnaw, gnaw at myself with my teeth, inwardly, secretly, tear and suck at myself until the bitterness finally turned into some shameful, accursed sweetness, and finally-into a decided, serious pleasure! Yes, a pleasure, a pleasure! I stand upon it. The reason I've begun to speak is that I keep wanting to find out for certain: do other people have such pleasures? I'll explain it to you: the pleasure here lay precisely in the too vivid consciousness of one's own humiliation; in feeling that one had reached the ultimate wall; that, bad as it is, it cannot be otherwise; that there is no way out for you, that you will never change into a different person; that even if you had enough time and enough faith left to change yourself into something different, you probably would not wish to change; and even if you did wish it, you would still not do anything, because in fact there is perhaps nothing to change into.

Hate you?" Paragon slowly digested her words before he spoke again. He did not turn to look at her, but kept his eyes focused on the river ahead of him as the ship moved steadily against the current. "Why would I waste my time with hate? What was done to me was unforgivable of course. Completely unforgivable. Those who did it are no longer alive to be punished or to apologize. Even if they were and did, it would not undo what they did. The torments I endured cannot be undone. The stolen future cannot be given back to me,

For with respect to those things which immediately concern the union, and for which the union was purposely established, and is intended to secure, each state is to the United States what each individual is to the state he lives in. And it is on this grand point, this movement upon one centre, that our existence as a nation, our happiness as a people, and our safety as individuals, depend. It may happen that some state or other may be somewhat over or under rated, but this cannot be much. The experience which has been had upon the matter, has nearly ascertained their several abilities. But even in this case, it can only admit of an appeal to the United States, but cannot authorize any state to make the alteration itself, any more than our internal government can admit an individual to do so in the case of an act of assembly; for if one state can do it, then may another do the same, and the instant this is done the whole is undone. Neither is it supposable that any single state can be a judge of all the comparative reasons which may influence the collective body in arranging the quotas of the continent. The circumstances of the several states are frequently varying, occasioned by the accidents of war and commerce, and it will often fall upon some to help others, rather beyond what their exact proportion at another time might be; but even this assistance is as naturally and politically included in the idea of a union as that of any particular assigned proportion; because we know not whose turn it may be next to want assistance, for which reason that state is the wisest which sets the best example.

To the future or to the past, to a time when thought is free, when men are different from one another and do not live alone - to a time when truth exists and what is done cannot be undone: From the age of uniformity, from the age of solitude, from the age of Big Brother, from the age of doublethink - greetings!

No time like the present’ Mrs Manley (The Lost Lover, 1696), 1663-1724 ‘From marrying in haste, and repenting at leisure; Not liking the person, yet liking his treasure.’ Elizabeth Thomas, 1675-1731 ‘What’s done cannot be undone.’ William Shakespeare (Macbeth, 1606), 1564-1616

Whatever you did can be undone,” He says. “It may take months. It may take years. But as long as there is breath in your body, there is a chance to make up for what you’ve done. It will be slow, and difficult. But some would say it’s worth it. If you care about the people you hurt, you cannot run away. That would only cause you more pain. You must be kind to yourself.

You should focus on what you can change, not what you cannot change. What’s done is done. If somebody offended you, mistreated you, or disappointed you, the hurts can’t be undone. You can get bitter--pack it in a bag and carry it around and let it weigh you down--or you can forgive those who hurt you and go on. If you lost your temper yesterday, you can beat yourself up--put the guilt and condemnation in a bag--or you can ask for forgiveness, receive God’s mercy, and do better today. If you didn’t get a promotion you wanted, you can get sour and go around with a chip on your shoulder, or you can shake it off, knowing that God has something better in store. No matter what happens, big or small, if you make the choice to let it go and move forward, you won’t let the past poison your future. A woman I know went through a divorce years ago. We prayed several times in our services, asking God to bring a good man into her life. One day she met a fine Godly man, who was very successful. She was so happy, but she made the mistake of carrying all her negative baggage from her divorce into the new relationship. She was constantly talking about what she had been through and how she was so mistreated. She had a victim mentality. The man told me later that she was so focused on her past and so caught up in what she had been through that he just couldn’t deal with it. He moved on. That’s what happens when we hold on to the hurts and pains of the past. It will poison you wherever you go. You can’t drag around all the personal baggage from yesterday and expect to have good relationships. You’ve got to let it go. Quit looking at the little rearview mirror and start looking out the great big windshield in front of you. You may have had some bad breaks, but that didn’t stop God’s plan for your life. He still has amazing things in your future. When one door closes, stay in faith and God will open another door. If a dream dies, don’t sit around in self-pity talking about what you lost, move forward and dream another dream. Your life is not over because you lost a loved one, went through a divorce, lost a job, or didn’t get the house you wanted. You would not be alive unless God had another victory in front of you.

What’s done cannot be undone.

To the future or to the past, to a time when thought is free, when men are different from one another and do not live alone — to a time when truth exists and what is done cannot be undone: From the age of uniformity, from the age of solitude, from the age of Big Brother, from the age of doublethink — greetings!

Our feelings and our eyes I asked her, “Irma, what have you done?” She looked at me and replied, “nothing!” I cannot find few of my heart beats a lot seems undone, But there was a feeling that reminded me of something, And I tracked the rhythm of my every heart beat, Which led just to one trace, That whenever I see her and our eyes meet, My heart loses its pace, And there goes my heart beat missing in between this space, The distance between her eyes and mine, Though we stand on the same ground at the same place, Yet my heart beats rush towards her making a bee line, Just to beat closer to her heart, To feel her warmth and swim in the sea of her feelings, And as these love seeking heart beats depart, My heart cries in its painful reelings, Where it finds itself left in the wilderness of nowhere, She is there, her heart is there too, But our eyes still tend to wander somewhere, Where she is willing to say I love you, But her heart beats are yet to feel the miracle of a missing heart beat, That always rushes unto me, Creating love’s fondest retreat, Where wherever I may see, I see her and she only sees me, This is the distance that grows in the eyes, That only these missing heart beats can shorten, Just like when I look at those skies, I am always by her beauty smitten, Her eyes, her smiles, her face and her sweet ways, Are actually the twinkle that the night stars bear, And ah their pain on those Sunny and bright days, When they long to see her, But today, she looked at me and I felt she plugged into my spirit, And a heart beat unknown sank into me with it, Then she started beating in my every heart beat, And how I loved my heart beat, and repeat and repeat, With every heartbeat, “I love you too.” And then the distance in our eyes vanished suddenly, As I held her in my arms and said, “I was born to love you!” And then our two hearts, beat as one and forever happily.

How you must hate us for what we did to you.” Behind her, she heard Sedric give a small gasp of dismay. She ignored him. “Hate you?” Paragon slowly digested her words before he spoke again. He did not turn to look at her, but kept his eyes focused on the river ahead of him as the ship moved steadily against the current. “Why would I waste my time with hate? What was done to me was unforgivable, of course. Completely unforgivable. Those who did it are no longer alive to be punished or to apologize. Even if they were and did, it would not undo what they did. The torments I endured cannot be undone. The stolen future cannot be given back to me. The companionship of my own kind, the chance to hunt and kill, to fight and mate, to live a life in which I am neither servant or master—all those things are forever lost to me.” He did glance back at her now; the blue of his eyes paled to an icy gray. “Can you think of anything that anyone could do to make up for it? Any sacrifice that could be offered that would be adequate reparation?” Her heart was beating so hard that there was a ringing in her ears. Was that why he had rolled so many times and taken so many human lives? Did he think that enough humans had died in expiation for the sin against him, or would he demand more? She hadn’t answered his questions. His voice was a bit more penetrating as he nudged her with, “Well? What sacrifice would be adequate?” “None that I can think of,” she replied softly. She tightened her grip on the railing, wondering if he would immediately turn turtle and drown then all. “Neither can I,” he replied. “No vengeance could resolve it. No sacrifice would make reparations for it.” He returned his gaze to the river. “And so I have decided to move beyond it. To be what I am now, in this incarnation, as no other is available to me. To have what life I may for as long as the wood of this body lasts me.” She couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing. “Then you have forgiven us?” Paragon gave a quiet snort. “Wrong on two points. I haven’t forgiven anything. And I don’t believe in the ‘us’ you think I might take vengeance on. You didn’t do this to me. But even if you had, killing you would not undo it.” Behind her, Sedric suddenly spoke. “That is not the attitude I would have expected from a dragon.” Paragon have a snort, half contempt, half amusement. “I told you. I am not a dragon. And neither are those creatures that you intend to visit and study. That’s why I called you forward. To tell you that. To tell you that there’s no point to your journey. Studying those pathetic wretches will not teach you anything about dragons. No more than studying me would.” “How can they not be dragons?” “In a world where dragons lived, they would not have survived.” “Other dragons would have killed them?” “Other dragons would have ignored them. They would have died and been eaten. Their memories and knowledge would have been preserved by those who fed upon them.” “It seems cruel.” “Would it have been crueler than enabling them to exist as they are now?” She took a breath and then tried to speak boldly. “You have chosen to continue as you are. Should not they be given that choice?” The muscles in his back tightened, and she felt a gout of fear. But when he turned back to her, there was a spark of respect in his blue eyes that had not been there before. He gave her a slow nod. “A point.

What is done cannot be undone.

To the future or to the past, to a time when thought is free, when men are different from one another and do not live alone—to a time when truth exists and what is done cannot be undone: From the age of uniformity, from the age of solitude, from the age of Big Brother, from the age of doublethink—greetings!   He

To the future or to the past, to a time when thought is free, when men are different from one another and do not live alone—to a time when truth exists and what is done cannot be undone: From the age of uniformity, from the age of solitude, from the age of Big Brother, from the age of doublethink—greetings!

Juliet?" Charles whispered, his stunned brain trying to absorb what he was seeing and sort it out into something he could understand . . . trying to reason why she was still pregnant when she should've delivered the baby months and months ago . . . trying to put together the pieces of this puzzle that made absolutely no sense.  "Juliet, will you not come and greet me?" As though for approval, she glanced toward Gareth, who had also risen and now stood almost protectively beside her.  And as Charles's confused and uncomprehending gaze went from Gareth's hand, which now supported Juliet's elbow, to his fiancée's swollen belly and finally, to the high chair drawn up beside her which contained a toddler whose curling hair was as bright a gold as Charles's own, he began to understand. It felt as though God had slammed a fist into his stomach. "No," he murmured, shaking his head in denial and stepping backward, his gaze still fixed on Juliet's gently rounded abdomen.  Involuntarily, his fists clenched and he was suddenly afraid that he was going to call out Gareth, his own brother, right here in front of everyone, for what he had done to her.  "No, I . . . this cannot be —" And then Lucien was there, his hand like a vise on Charles's arm as he firmly turned him around and began dragging him out of the room.  Charles resisted, trying to twist his head around, unable to take his disbelieving stare from Juliet's belly, from her face, from her eyes, which met and held his in a silent plea for forgiveness, but Lucien only tightened his grip and pulled him away from the table.  Away from the others. Out the door, which he shut behind him. "Now you know why I did not want you to charge unannounced into this house," he said quietly, as Charles walked a little distance away and leaned his brow against his forearm, and his forearm against the cold stone wall.  There he remained, head bent, totally undone by the confusion and despair of his discovery.  "I am not angry with you, and there is nothing to forgive.  But since you were unaware of the situation, and Juliet is obviously in a delicate condition, you can be sure that I would do everything in my power to protect you both from shock and upset.  I am sorry that you had to learn of things this way." When Charles made no move to acknowledge him, he turned to Amy.  "Who are you?" Amy had stepped up beside Charles, who stood with head bent, shoulders quaking.  "My name's Amy Leighton," she answered.  "I'm a friend of your brother's." "How close a friend are you?" "Well, that's hard to say, really, because —" "She's the only person in this bloody world who hasn't betrayed me!

In life we often end up finding ourself in a situation we thought we would never see. Good or bad deal with it. If you wish you could go back remember time is irreversible, whats done cannot be undone. Never regret but learn. What will be is in your hands. Live for now live today and things will fall in place.

I lay there turning over the pages of my life, thinking of what I had done and left undone, and of the dreams from which I had awakened. How far off seem the bright visions of early boyhood, and how poor and bare the reality looks. I thought of all my expectations, and the small results of my labors; of my wife, who certainly cannot be called either good-natured or good-looking, of my sons who hardly seem to belong to me, with whom I have nothing in common:—of the faithlessness and folly of those around us, of our poor France torn by civil wars and religious persecutions; of my works of art scattered, life itself a handful of ashes, soon to be blown away by the breath of the Destroyer.—I put my face close up against the oak tree, and lay there weeping quietly all among the big roots which cradled me like a father’s arms; and I felt that he listened.

To the future or to the past, to a time when thought is free, when men are different from one another and do not live alone–to a time when truth exists and what is done cannot be undone: From the age of uniformity, from the age of solitude, from the age of Big Brother, from the age of doublethink–greetings!

Curiously, the chiming of the hours seemed to have put anew heart into him. He was a lonely ghost uttering the truth that nobody would ever hear. But so long as he uttered it, in some obscure way the continuity was not broken. It was not by making yourself heard but by staying sane that you carried on the human heritage. He went back to the table, dipped his pen, and wrote: 'To the future or to the past, to a time when thought is free, when men are different from one another and o not live alone - to a time when truth exists and what is done cannot be undone: From the age of uniformity, from the age of solitude, from the age of Big Brother, from the age of doublethink - greetings!

That I have done unintentionally cannot be undone but I know very well what I can do now.

Oh, that is quite a tragedy, ‘Macbeth’, is it not?” Then she looked at Charlotte again and continued, “And then he said later, ’What’s done cannot be undone.’ What a sage we have in Shakespeare! Well, let us heed the Bard’s wisdom and never discuss it again. Tell me, Charlotte, do you truly think that regaining the control of her inheritance should materially alter Miss de Bourgh’s outlook in life and make her happy as a consequence?

What did it matter? There was no changing it. What’s done is done and cannot be undone. At least they were together. Together in the cyan, cyan, cyan.

To the future or to the past, to a time when thought is free, when men are different from one another and do not live alone-to a time when truth existes and what is done cannot be undone: From the age of uniformity, from the age of solitude, from the age of Big Brother, from the age of doublethink-greetings!

What is bitterly done in uncontrolled anger cannot be undone.

Life’s reality is that we cannot bounce back. We cannot bounce back because we cannot go back in time to the people we used to be. The parent who loses a child never bounces back. The nineteen-year-old marine who sails for war is gone forever, even if he returns. “What’s done cannot be undone,” and some of what life does to us is harsh.

do not live alone—to a time when truth exists and what is done cannot be undone: From the age of uniformity, from the age of solitude, from the age of Big Brother, from the age of doublethink—greetings!

What’s done cannot be undone. Lady Macbeth’s

thought is free, when men are different from one another and do not live alone—to a time when truth exists and what is done cannot be undone: From the age of uniformity, from the age of solitude, from the age of Big Brother, from the age of doublethink—greetings!

He that in the latter part of his life too strictly enquires what he has done can very seldom receive from his own heart such an account as will give him satisfaction. We do not indeed so often disappoint others as ourselves. We not only think more highly than others of our own abilities, but allow ourselves to form hopes which we never communicate, and please our thoughts with employments which none ever will allot us, and with elevations to which we are never expected to rise; and when our days and years have passed away in common business or common amusements, and we find at last that we have suffered our purposes to sleep till the time of action is past, we are reproached only by our own reflections; neither our friends nor our enemies wonder that we live and die like the rest of mankind, that we live without notice and die without memorial; they know not what task we had proposed, and therefore cannot discern whether it is finished. He that compares what he has done with what he has left undone will feel the effect which must always follow the comparison of imagination with reality; he will look with contempt on his own unimportance, and wonder to what purpose he came into the world; he will repine that he shall leave behind him no evidence of his having been, that he has added nothing to the system of life, but has glided from youth to age among the crowd, without any effort for distinction.

What’s done cannot be undone. —Macbeth (1606), act 5, scene 1

I have done nothing untoward, Weston. Why do you carry on so? She is not my first virgin, nor will she be my last. What’s done is done and cannot be undone. For my part, I do not regret it. More to the point is what is to be done now to recover her?” “You have consummated the marriage.” Weston babbled wildly. “If she is with child it will be the legal heir to the estate and you will have no grounds for annulment.” Sebastian fixed his eyes on the misty lake that had swallowed up his young wife. “I do not want an annulment. The little mouse will do nicely. I shall remain wed to her long into old age and if there are children, all the better. They will give her something to do. Now pick yourself up, man and let us away. The guests will be tearing the walls down if we do not.

My brows flew up. “Stop her from what?” “From doing something she’d regret,” Reaver said, and my stomach lurched. “Both of her sons were taken from her. Neither may be dead, but neither are really alive, are they?” No. They really weren’t. “She’s angry. Furious enough to forget who she is. Enough to cause the kind of harm that cannot be undone.” I didn’t know what it was like to be a mother and to have a child taken from me, but I knew what I’d done when Ian died. I knew what I’d done when I learned Casteel had been taken. So, in some small way, I could understand her anger.

Don't think that relationship is coming from the past - it is coming from the past, but don't think about it because then you will get more complicated. Make things easier. It is going on - from your past lives things have a continuity, so I don't deny the fact, but don't get burdened by it. It will continue in the future, but don't think about it. The present is more than enough. Munch the cake and say: THIS cake is delicious. Don't think of the past and don't think of the future; they will take care of themselves. Nothing is discontinuous. You have been in relationships in the past. You have loved, you have hated, you have made friends and you have made enemies. That continues, known, unknown to you, it is always there. But if you start brooding about it, you will miss the present moment. So think as if there is no past, and think as if there is no future. THIS moment is all that is given to you. Work it out, as if this moment is all. Behave as if this moment is all and work out how you can transform your energies into a loving phenomenon - this very moment. People come to me and they want to know about their past lives. They HAD past lives, but it is irrelevant. Why this inquiry? What are you going to do about the past? Nothing can be done now. The past is past and it cannot be undone. You cannot change it. You cannot go back. That's why nature, in its wisdom, doesn't allow you to remember past lives. Otherwise you would go mad. You may be in love with a girl. If you suddenly become aware that that girl was your mother in your past life, things will become very complicated. Then what to do? And when that girl has been your mother in a past life, making love to her now will create guilt. Not making love to her will also create guilt, because you love her. That's why I say nature in its wisdom never allows you to remember your past lives - unless you come to a point where it can be allowed, when you become so meditative that nothing disturbs you, then the gates open and all your past lives are before you. It is an automatic mechanism, though sometimes the mechanism doesn't work. Through accidents some children are born who can remember.