Vladimir Nabokov. Transparent things

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Here's the person I want. Hullo, person! Doesn't hear me.
Perhaps if the future existed, concretely and individually, as something that could be discerned by a better brain, the past would not be so seductive: its demands would be balanced by those of the future. Persons might then straddle the middle stretch of the seesaw when considering this or that object.
It might be fun. But the future has no such reality (as the pictured past and the perceived present possess); the future is but a figure of
speech, a specter of thought.
Hullo, person! What's the matter, don't pull me. I'm not bothering him. Oh, all right. Hullo, person . . .
(last time, in a very small voice).

Via Grow a Brain