Quotes About Repetition

I think with performing, initially I was terrified on stage, absolutely terrified. And I did it again and again and again, and I learned sort of how it works, and then I was able to do it.

The people and places that cause terror in childhood cause attraction in adulthood. We end up being repetitively attracted to the same kind of person that obliges us by acting out the same behavior over again.

Another difference between death and taxes is that death doesn't get worse every time the legislature meets.

It's like the end of the day where you feel nothing has been achieved and you're in a hurry to get the day over with so you can start the next one. You tell yourself you're going to do lots of positive things. But the next day is just like the one before. Sometimes it goes on for weeks.

The novel I am constantly writing is always the same one, and it might be described as a variously sliced-up or torn-apart book of myself.

Entonces repetí palabras que antes habían tenido un sentido pálido en mi experiencia. "Sufrirás", me decía, "sufrirás... sufrirás...sufrirás..." "Sufrirás... sufrirás..." "Sufrirás...", y la palabra se me caía de los labios. Así maduré todo el invierno infernal.

Soñé que Baudelaire hacía el amor con una sombra en una habitación donde se había cometido un crimen. Pero a Baudelaire no le importaba. Siempre es lo mismo, decía

El mundo de la literatura es terrible, además de ridículo, decía. Y añadía que ni siquiera el repetido encuentro con un mismo jurado constituía de hecho un peligro, pues estos generalmente no leían las obras presentadas o las leían por encima o las leían a medias.

All of history, a great wheel, turning inexorably. Just as seasons come and go, just as the moon moves endlessly through her cycle, so does time. The same wars are fought, the same plagues descend, the same folk, good or evil, rise to power. Humanity is trapped on that wheel, doomed endlessly to repeat the mistakes we have we have already made. Unless someone comes to change it.

The Fool had always asserted that time moved in a great circle, but a decaying one, where at every turning humanity repeated mistakes, making them ever graver.

I lose my place in time. It seems to me that we have come this way before, done these things before, perhaps even shared these words before. Sometimes I believe it so strongly that I think that today is actually a memory or a dream.

If a pattern of triangles keeps repeating, then it is a very strong message, and we need to listen to what it is trying to tell us.

King Constantine IX of Regia had been killed three times and was bored with it. He wanted a bath.

It was simply a marking of time with no meaningful changes.

He began saying chugga chugga chugga when he walked down the hall of the apartment. He was practicing being trained.

Its a little like looking at yourself looking in a mirror looking at yourself looking in a mirror.

But perhaps it was only an echo.

All her old thoughts seemed as thin and ragged as a piece of knitting made and ripped out and made and ripped out again until all the threads were frayed, growing ever more worn, but never larger.

Same jobs over and over, all have to be done again tomorrow or something dies? Despite the weather or the hurting, or, or whatever. Yeah, I guess there are some parallels." While he was weighing this, his mouth kept moving without him. "Or maybe it's just called being a grownup.

Pen told the tale, again; the repetition was beginning to seem more like the memory of a memory than the thing itself.

Same jobs over and over, all have to be done again tomorrow or something dies?  Despite the weather or the hurting, or, or whatever.  Yeah, I guess there are some parallels."  While he was weighing this, his mouth kept moving without him.  "Or maybe it's just called being a grownup.

he was getting mortally tired of having to reinvent the wheel every fifteen minutes.

You always say that, said Evan, but then you go on your trips and vacations and then you settle back into things and then you're quiet for a while and then you say you're fine, you're busy, and then after a while you say you're going crazy again, and you start all over.

Love is a kind of dementia with very precise and oft-repeated clinical symptoms.