Quotes About Repetition

I begin to realize that the physical repetition can be a kind of meditation that transcends the simple goal of winning a race.

Although it may happen that people who always repeat the same thing actually believe what they say, inevitably their speech will be perceived as insincere - presumably even by themselves, if they ever care to listen to themselves speak. In our culture, sincerity does not stand in opposition to lying, but in opposition to automatism and routine.

Time is like a river flowing endlessly through the universe. And if you poled your flatboat in that river you might fight your way against the current and travel upstream into the past. Or go with the flow and rush into the future. This was in a less cynical time before toxic waste dumping and pollution filled the waterway of Chronus with the detritus of empty hours wasted minutes years of repetition and time that has been killed.

They've done it before and they'll do it again and when they do it -- seems that only the children weep. Good night.

I don't know, but they did it. They've done it before and they did it tonight and they'll do it again and when they do it--seems that only children weep.

How could they do it, how could they?' 'I don't know, but they did it.They've done it before and they did it tonight and they'll do it again and when they do - seems that only children weep

Tan segur com que passa el temps, la història es va repetint, i mentre l'home sigui home, la història és l'últim lloc on buscarà per aprendre.

How could they do it, how could they? I don't know, but they did. They've done it before and they did it tonight and they'll do it again and when they do it - seems that only children weep.

finding ourselves in the same deep waters. As sure as time, history is repeating itself, and as sure as man is man, history is the last place he'll look for his lessons.

The same families married the same families until relationships were hopelessly entangled and the members of the community looked monotonously alike.

Nu ÅŸtiu cum, dar au f?cut-o. Au f?cut-o ÅŸi înainte, au f?cut-o ast?-sear? ÅŸi au s-o mai fac?, ÅŸi când fac una ca asta...se pare c? numai copiii plâng.

La historia se está repitiendo, no hay duda, tan seguro como que el hombre es hombre, la historia será el último sitio donde la gente busque respuestas.

I don't know, but they did it. They've done it before and they did it tonight and they'll do it again and when they do it—seems that only children weep. Good night.

They've done it before and they did it tonight and they'll do it again and when they do it—seems that only children weep.

La historia se esta repitiendo, no hay duda, tan seguro como que el hombre es hombre, la historia será el último sitio donde la gente busque respuestas.

the same families married the same families until the members of the community looked faintly alike.

But like a boat with a twisted rudder, I kept coming back to the same place. I wasn't going anywhere. I was myself, waiting on the shore for me to return. Was that so depressing? Who knows? Maybe that was 'despair.' What Turgenev called 'disillusionment.' Or Dostoyevsky, 'hell.' Or Somerset Maugham, 'reality.' Whatever the label, I figured it was me.

it occurred to me what a simple thing reality is, how easy it is to make it work. It's just reality. Just housework. Just a home. Like running a simple machine. Once you learn to run it, it's just a matter of repetition. You push this button and pull that lever. You adjust a gauge, put on the lid, set the timer. The same thing, over and over.

I think certain types of processes don't allow for any variation. If you have to be part of that process, all you can do is transform—or perhaps distort—yourself through that persistent repetition, and make that process a part of your own personality.

Tendencies. Yougottendencies. Soevenifyoudideverythingoveragain, yourwholelife, yougottendenciestodojustwhatyoudid, alloveragain. -The Sheep Man.

A regular wind-up toy world this is, I think. Once a day the wind-up bird has to come and wind the springs of this world. Alone in this fun house, only I grow old, a pale softball of death swelling inside me. Yet even as I sleep somewhere between Saturn and Uranus, wind-up birds everywhere are busy at work fulfilling their appointed rounds.

The minute you leave your house, all phones sound alike.

Io leggevo molto i libri, è vero, ma non leggevo molti libri, perché a me piaceva leggere più volte quelli che amavo […] Leggevo e rileggevo lo stesso libro molte volte, e a volte chiudevo gli occhi e mi riempivo i polmoni del suo odore. Il semplice annusare quel libro, scorrere le dita tra le pagine, per me era la felicità»

all men of a certain age tell this story, and they give themselves away by always using the same fruit. I have yet to meet the father who will look his child in the eye and say, "I was happy just to get some seedless grapes." But