ponder

“Tomorrow they will be wrong, today they are absolutely right; the age is always wrong when it is dead, always right when it is alive.
Condemn it later on, if you like; but first it had its passionate way of loving itself and lacerating itself, against which future judgements are of no avail.
It had its taste which it tasted alone and which is as incomparable, as irremediable, as the taste of wine in our mouths.“
Writing for One’s Age, What is Literature? And Other Essays, Jean-Paul Sartre