He had a term for people like this: temporal provincials—people who were ignorant of the past, and proud of it.
Temporal provincials were convinced that the present was the only time that mattered, and that anything that had occurred earlier could be safely ignored.

Time past was nothing, no matter how long. Time ahead was everything, no matter how brief.

They wanted what is possible only once: the now.

I don't think of the past. The only thing that matters is the everlasting present.

Before is the only time you own, the only before you can trust is now, and you don’t even know how long before is.

I used to think there was no time like the present. I used to think there was no time but the present. Now I know better — or different, anyway. In the end, the past will always be there. The past is all there is: the present never sticks around for long enough, and the future is anybody’s guess. In time, you always have to hand it to the past. It always gets you in the end.

If there were events earlier than this time, then they could not affect what happens at the present time. Their existence can be ignored because it would have no observational consequences.

We can experience nothing but the present moment, live in no other second of time, and to understand this is as close as we can get to eternal life.

Only the present counts.

The residents had eliminated both past and future, and for all their activity, they existed in a civilized and eventless world.

The only time that exists in life is now.

If you could go back in time and change things…
The only moment in time you could change things was the elusive now, which slipped through your fingers as fast as you could think about it.

There's no present. There's only the immediate future and the recent past.

The past is relevant only as data.