A window onto eternity. Marcus Aurelius 2.14

There is only the present. That is all we have, really: a little window onto the vast ocean of eternity that rocks the ship of our mortality on its currents. <Greek>.

Κἂν τρὶς χίλια ἔτη βιώσεσθαι μέλλῃς, κἂν τοσαυτάκις μύρια, ὅμως μέμνησο ὅτι οὐδεὶς ἄλλον ἀποβάλλει βίον ἢ τοῦτον ὃν ζῇ, οὐδὲ ἄλλον ζῇ ἢ ὃν ἀποβάλλει. εἰς ταὐτὸν οὖν καθίσταται τὸ μήκιστον τῷ βραχυτάτῳ. τὸ γὰρ παρὸν πᾶσιν ἴσον καὶ τὸ ἀπολλύμενον οὖν ἴσον καὶ τὸ ἀποβαλλόμενον οὕτως ἀκαριαῖον ἀναφαίνεται. οὔτε γὰρ τὸ παρῳχηκὸς οὔτε τὸ μέλλον ἀποβάλοι ἄν τις· ὃ γὰρ οὐκ ἔχει, πῶς ἄν τις τοῦτο αὐτοῦ ἀφέλοιτο; τούτων οὖν τῶν δύο δεῖ μεμνῆσθαι· ἑνὸς μέν, ὅτι πάντα ἐξ ἀιδίου ὁμοειδῆ καὶ ἀνακυκλούμενα καὶ οὐδὲν διαφέρει, πότερον ἐν ἑκατὸν ἔτεσιν ἢ ἐν διακοσίοις ἢ ἐν τῷ ἀπείρῳ τὰ αὐτά τις ὄψεται· ἑτέρου δέ, ὅτι καὶ ὁ πολυχρονιώτατος καὶ ὁ τάχιστα τεθνηξόμενος τὸ ἴσον ἀποβάλλει. τὸ γὰρ παρόν ἐστι μόνον, οὗ στερίσκεσθαι μέλλει, εἴπερ γε ἔχει καὶ τοῦτο μόνον καὶ ὃ μὴ ἔχει τις οὐκ ἀποβάλλει.

Even if you were going to live three thousand years, or thirty thousand, remember that nobody loses a life separate from the one he lives, or lives a life separate from the one he loses. In this the longest and the briefest amount to the same thing. For the present moment belongs equally to all, and so everyone looks at the ruins of the past, whatever time has cast behind us, as but a moment. There is no losing what has passed, or casting aside what is to come. How could there be? For it is impossible to release something you do not hold. You must remember two things. First, that Eternity renders all her children alike: they recur always in cycles, and it makes no difference whether we meet them in one hundred years, or two hundred, or beyond a boundless age. They will remain the same in our eyes. Second, that the long-lived and the soonest-dead cast behind themselves the same thing. Each of them has only the present moment to lose, and as this is all he has, he cannot lose anything else.