We Cross Our Bridges When We Come To Them And Burn Them Behind Us, With Nothing To Show For Our Progress Except A Memory Of The Smell Of Smoke, And A Presumption That Once Our Eyes Watered.

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We cross our bridges when we come to them and burn them behind us,
with nothing to show for our progress except a memory of the smell
of smoke, and a presumption that once our eyes watered.
-- Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead by Tom Stoppard

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