Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Quotes

The wheel is come full circle.

My music is like a spinning ball. It can turn in one direction, and then it comes back to origins.

You know, if you hang around this earth long enough you really see how things come full circle.

Things work in cycles.

Life is like a wheel. Sooner or later, it always come around to where you started again.

Everything does go in a circle.

I've kind of found out that things in life come full circle anyway.

It is indifferent to me where I am to begin, for there shall I return again.

Our life runs down in sending up the clock. The brook runs down in sending up our life. The sun runs down in sending up the brook. And there is something sending up the sun. It is this backward motion toward the source, Against the stream, that most we see ourselves in, The tribute of the current to the source. It is from this in nature we are from. It is most us.

What goes around comes around like a hool-a-hoop.

Like the sun and moon, they end but to begin anew; like the four seasons, they pass away to return once more.

Everything comes in circles. [...] The old wheel turns, and the same spoke comes up. It's all been done before, and will be again.

What we call the beginning is often the end. And to make an end is to make a beginning. The end is where we start from.

All motion is cyclic. It circulates to the limits of its possibilities and then returns to its starting point.

Nothing can have as its destination anything other than its origin. The contrary idea, the idea of progress, is poison.

History repeats itself, first as history, then as farce.

What once happened will invariably happen again, when the same circumstances which combined to produce it, shall combine in the same way.

It's really nice to see something come full circle.

History goes in cycles.

In all things there is a law of cycles.

What you give away comes back to you in a river.

The end is where we start from.

The course of a lifetime runs/over and over again

Love is a boomerang that returns to the thrower's hand.

Life was a wheel, its only job was to turn, and it always came back to where it started.