Quotes About Cycle

The day is ending. It's time for something that was beautiful to turn into something else that is beautiful. Now, let go.

Nothing is ever finished and done with in this world. You may think a seed was finished and done with when it falls like a dead thing into the earth; but when it puts forth leaves and flowers next spring you see your mistake.

Dying is something we human beings do continuously, not just at the end of our physical lives on this earth.

it takes between 90 and 120 minutes for your child to move through one sleep cycle. Each stage of sleep brings a different benefit to the sleeper.

It was hard work being old. It was like being a baby, in reverse. Every day for an infant means some new little thing learned; every day for the old means some little thing lost. Names slip away, dates mean nothing, sequences become muddled, and faces blurred. Both infancy and age are tiring times.

Death is senseless yet makes way for the living.

When things reach the extreme, they alternate to the opposite.

Better fifty years of Europe than a cycle of Cathay.

Let the great world spin for ever down the ringing grooves of change.

Both flame and spider enrich themselves by understanding the natures of their prey; and fly and moth return again and again until this is accomplished.

Cut this tree I'm living in down. Hollow its trunk out. Make me all over again, with what you scooped out of its insides. Slide the new me back inside the old trunk. Burn me. Burn the tree. Spread the ashes, for luck, where you want next year's crops to grow. Birth me and the tree Next summer's sun Midwinter guarantee

The seasons are meaningless. No - worse than meaningless. Paddy is rubble, and time just keeps on going. Autumn, then there'l| be winter. Then there'll be spring, and so on.

birth me all over again burn me and the tree next summer's sun midwinter guarantee

Cut this tree I'm living in down. Hollow its trunk out. Make me all over again, with what you scooped out of its insides. Slide the new me back inside the old trunk. Burn me. Burn the tree. Spread the ashes, for luck, where you want next year's crops to grow. Birth me all over again Burn me and the tree Next summer's sun Midwinter guarantee

It is always spring somewhere

the same old choirs of hours

somebody out not back being out again

It was a vicious cycle, though. The more gratification we found in our own geniuses, the more isolated we grew.

Trees are like people. We're alive, then we're memories, then we're not even that.

The only reason any smoker lights a cigarette is to try to end the empty, insecure feeling that the previous cigarette created.

The sun will sink lower soon enough, turning the fields into open black space, ushering another day out, another day in--one after the next.

Ascend, may you find so resistance Just know that you made such a difference All you leave behind will live to the end The cycle of suffering goes on But memories of you stay strong Some day I too will fly and find you again

Everything passes. Everything experiences the birth and death cycle.

The two of us warmed by a bold beam of light that wicks the moisture from my dress, my hair, and my skin—returning it to the sky where it promises to find me again in the form of dew, snow, or rain.