I read some where "We all have our time machines. Some take us back, they're called memories. Some take us forward, they're called dreams". Yes, I live my life moment by moment, hour by hour, day by day. A moment lasts all of a second, but the memory lives on forever. A strange thing is memory, and hope; one looks backward, and the other forward; one is of today, the other of tomorrow. Memory is history recorded in our brain, memory is a painter, it paints pictures of the past and of the day.