I have learned that if you must leave a place
That you have lived in and loved,
And where all of your yesterdays are buried deep –
Leave it any way except slow;
Leave it the fastest way you can.
Never turn back and believe that an hour you remember
Is a better hour because it is dead.
Past years seem safe ones, vanquished ones,
While the future lives in a cloud, formidable from a distance.
The cloud clears though, as you enter it.
I have learned this, but like everyone,
I learned it late.”

Beryl Markham