Memories, like wine, fade well
Memories, like wine, fade well as they grow older. In one sense this is a blesing because at every point in your life, at least you have some treasure chest of some glorious construction of your past that you can look at. On the other hand, it's a sick trick that makes you think that everything you did back then was good. I catch myself often over-emphasizing and over-glorifying the life-strategies I employed in the past. Maybe this is why, when you get older, you can't help but gradually melt into a conservative. At some point, your past is ALL you have.