Dorothy Allison Quotes

When you're my age, you have the feeling sometimes that you're seeing the show come round again.

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

Life is sort of a circle. You come back to a lot of the interests that you had early in life.

I grew up very strongly with this sense of time being circular: that it constantly returned upon itself.

It is the soothing thing about history that it does repeat itself.

There are only two or three human stories, and they go on repeating themselves as fiercely as if they had never happened before.

That which the fountain sends forth returns again to the fountain.

Isn't life a series of images that change as they repeat themselves?

People never grasp the fact that they're going to have to go through the same thing again. They get to the sort of five-year stretch or the seven-year itch or whatever these tension points are that seem to be organic, built in, like the tide coming in and going out. It's like every time the tide goes out you quit--you move your house or something.

As I get older, my childhood self becomes more accessible to me, but selectively, in images as stylized and suspect as moments remembered from a novel read years ago.

So many things I had thought forgotten Return to my mind with stranger pain: Like letters that arrive addressed to someone Who left the house so many years ago.

The trees are coming into leaf Like something almost being said; The recent buds relax and spread, Their greenness is a kind of grief. Is it that they are born again And we grow old? No, they die too. Their yearly trick of looking new Is written down in rings of grain. Yet still the unresting castles thresh In fullgrown thickness every May. Last year is dead, they seem to say, Begin afresh, afresh, afresh.

What's been tried once had been tried once before... and before... and before...

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

And the seasons they go 'round and 'round And the painted ponies go up and down We're captive on the carousel of time We can't return we can only look behind From where we came And go round and round and round In the circle game.

The sands of time cannot be stopped. Years pass whether we will them or not... but we can remember. What has been lost may yet live in memories.

Thou mayest foresee... the things which will be. For they will certainly be of like form, and it is not possible that they should deviate from the order of things now: accordingly to have contemplated human life for forty years is the same as to have contemplated it for ten thousand years.

Ah, the old questions, the old answers, there's nothing like them!

The Dance - it is the rhythm of all that dies in order to live again; it is the eternal rising of the sun.

Things are revealed through the memories we have of them. Remembering a thing means seeing it only then for the first time.

After a certain age - and for some of us that can be very young - there are no new people, beasts, dreams, faces, events: it has all happened before.

All of this has happened before, and it will all happen again.

History, like wallpaper, repeats itself and can also make a room look old-fashioned.

In every end, there is also a beginning.

...New Beginning to the same old story