The past is beautiful because we aren't there anymore. We seek to build haunted houses with bones in the walls and blood under the floorboards so that our ghosts will have somewhere memorable to linger in death. Someday our lives will only be photographs, and later not even that, so we should try to burn our images into at least one mind before we Go. After is fine too; not all of us have the time the first go-round. Just don't haunt a cemetery, okay? Not even one of the big ones with cold, white marble mausoleums and black iron fountains and red, wooden benches under weeping willows. No one goes there anymore.