Starting All Over Again Quotes

Do your eye shadow first, then your foundation. That way, you can clean up any mess without starting all over again. ~ Zooey Deschanel

Ours is a life of constant reruns. We're always circling back to where we'd we started, then starting all over again. Even if we don't run extra laps that day, we surely will come back for more of the same another day soon. ~ Joe Henderson

It's interesting when you've been a partner with someone for so long. So now to sing solo and starting all over again I am learning that I am more bodacious than I thought. I don't know where it's coming from but I am glad. ~ Valerie Simpson

I can never unlove you. I'll just love you in a different way now. ~ Piolo Pascual

One of the great beauties of architecture is that each time, it is like life starting all over again. ~ Renzo Piano

Human beings are the only creatures that allow their children to come back home. ~ Bill Cosby

I've always love how food preserves a memory. ~ Piolo Pascual

Leaving, arriving, returning - those are all just different words for the same thing: starting all over again. ~ Wayde Compton

I don't want to unlove you because I love you. ~ Piolo Pascual

[The haggadah] was made to teach, and it will continue to teach. And it might teach a lot more than just the Exodus story."
What do you mean?"
Well, from what you've told me, the book has survived the same human disaster over and over again. Think about it. You've got a society where people tolerate difference, like Spain in the Convivencia, and everything's humming along: creative, prosperous. Then somehow this fear, this hate, this need to demonize 'the other'
it just sort of rears up and smashes the whole society. Inquisition, Nazis, extremist Serb nationalists ... same old, same old. It seems to me that the book, at this point, bears witness to all that. ~ Geraldine Brooks

Doc awakened very slowly and clumsily like a fat man getting out of a swimming pool. His mind broke the surface and fell back several times. There was red lipstick on his beard. He opened one eye, saw the brilliant colors of the quilt and closed his eye quickly. But after a while he looked again. His eye went past the quilt to the floor, to the broken plate in the corner, to the glasses standing on the table turned over on the floor, to the spilled wine and the books like heavy fallen butterflies. There were little bits of curled red paper all over the place and the sharp smell of firecrackers. He could see through the kitchen door to the steak plates stacked high and the skillets deep in grease. Hundreds of cigarette butts were stamped out on the floor. And under the firecracker smell was a fine combination of wine and whiskey perfume. His eye stopped for a moment on a little pile of hairpins in the middle of the floor.
He rolled over slowly and supporting himself on one elbow he looked out the broken window. Cannery Row was quiet and sunny. The boiler was open. The door of the Palace Flophouse was closed. A man slept peacefully among the weeds in the vacant lot. The Bear Flag was shut up tight. ~ John Steinbeck

When nothing goes my way, when all attempts fail, when the darkest clouds in the sky seem bent on hovering over me while everyone with whom I come into contact flashes a nasty scowl, I find some comfort in the thought of a fresh tomorrow. I am thankful for the opportunity to try again. ~ Richelle E. Goodrich

When God creates faith in a man, that is as great a work as if He created heaven and earth all over again. ~ Martin Luther

I am half inclined to think we are all ghosts ... it is not only what we have inherited from our fathers and mothers that exists again in us, but all sorts of old dead ideas and all kinds of old dead beliefs and things of that kind. They are not actually alive in us; but there they are dormant all the same, and we can never be rid of them. Whenever I take up a newspaper and read it, I fancy I see ghosts creeping between the lines. There must be ghosts all over the world. They must be as countless as the grains of the sands, it seems to me. And we are so miserably afraid of the light, all of us. ~ Henrik Ibsen

He glanced at the screen. It was from Mark.
CAN'T FIND TY.
Julian frowned and thumbed a reply while jogging up the steps after Emma. DID YOU LOOK IN HIS BEDROOM?
There was an ornate knocker on the front door in the shape of a wild-haired, wild-eyed Green Man. Emma lifted it and let it fall as Julian's phone beeped again.
DO YOU TAKE ME FOR A BUFFOON? OF COURSE I DID.
"Jules?" Emma said. "Is everything all right?"
"Buffoon?" he muttered, his fingers flying over the touch pad.
WHAT DOES LIVVY SAY?
"Did you just mutter 'buffoon'? Emma demanded. Julian could hear footsteps approaching from the other side of the door. 'Julian, try to act not weird, okay? ~ Cassandra Clare

Socrates could enjoy a banquet now and again, and must have derived considerable satisfaction from his conversations while the hemlock was taking effect, but most of his life he lived quietly with Xanthippe, taking a constitutional in the afternoon, and perhaps meeting with a few friends by the way. Kant is said never to have been more than ten miles from Konigsberg in all his life. Darwin, after going round the world, spent the whole rest of his life in his own house. Marx, after stirring up a few revolutions, decided to spend the remainder of his days in the British Museum. Altogether it will be found that a quiet life is characteristic of great men, and that their pleasures have not been of the sort that would look exciting to the outward eye. No great achievement is possible without persistent work, so absorbing and so difficult that little energy is left over for the more strenuous kinds of amusement, except such as serve to recuperate physical energy during holidays, of which Alpine climbing may serve as the best example. ~ Bertrand Russell

I hope you live a life you're proud of. If you find that you're not, I hope you have the strength to start all over again. ~ Eric Roth

In a sense I've made the same film over and over again. In all of them I've asked, 'Who are we as Americans? ~ Ken Burns

The Arab world has done nothing to help the Palestinian refugees they created when they attacked Israel in 1948. It's called the 'Palestinian refugee problem.' This is one of the best tricks that the Arabs have played on the world, and they have used it to their great advantage when fighting Israel in the forum of public opinion. This lie was pulled off masterfully, and everyone has been falling for it ever since. First you tell people to leave their homes and villages because you are going to come in and kick out the Jews the day after the UN grants Israel its nationhood. You fail in your military objective, the Jews are still alive and have more land now than before, and you have thousands of upset, displaced refugees living in your country because they believed in you. So you and the UN build refugee camps that are designed to last only five years and crowd the people in, instead of integrating them into your society and giving them citizenship.
After a few years of overcrowding and deteriorating living conditions, you get the media to visit and publish a lot of pictures of these poor people living in the hopeless, wretched squalor you have left them in. In 1967 you get all your cronies together with their guns and tanks and planes and start beating the war drums. Again the same old story: you really are going to kill all the Jews this time or drive them into the sea, and everyone will be able to go back home, take over what the Jews have developed, and live in a Jew- ~ Brigitte Gabriel

Hold childhood in reverence, and do not be in any hurry to judge it for good or ill. Leave exceptional cases to show themselves, let their qualities be tested and confirmed, before special methods are adopted. Give nature time to work before you take over her business, lest you interfere with her dealings. You assert that you know the value of time and are afraid to waste it. You fail to perceive that it is a greater waste of time to use it ill than to do nothing, and that a child ill taught is further from virtue than a child who has learnt nothing at all. You are afraid to see him spending his early years doing nothing. What! is it nothing to be happy, nothing to run and jump all day? He will never be so busy again all his life long. Plato, in his Republic, which is considered so stern, teaches the children only through festivals, games, songs, and amusements. It seems as if he had accomplished his purpose when he had taught them to be happy; and Seneca, speaking of the Roman lads in olden days, says, "They were always on their feet, they were never taught anything which kept them sitting." Were they any the worse for it in manhood? Do not be afraid, therefore, of this so-called idleness. What would you think of a man who refused to sleep lest he should waste part of his life? You would say, "He is mad; he is not enjoying his life, he is robbing himself of part of it; to avoid sleep he is hastening his death." Remember that these two cases are alike, and that childhood is t ~ Jean-Jacques Rousseau

There is a power that can be created out of pent-up indignation, courage, and the inspiration of a common cause, and that if enough people put their minds and bodies into that cause, they can win. It is a phenomenon recorded again and against in the history of popular movements against injustice all over the world. ~ Howard Zinn

Toe. He was even wearing a ski mask with strange meshlike coverings over the eyes. We didn't get a lot of ninjas in Half-Moon Hollow. And I'm pretty sure Jed would have responded. So I wasn't quite sure how to react here. Was this some sort of test from Jane to determine whether I would survive a parking-lot attack? Couldn't I just roll around in a gym with a practice dummy or something? The figure cocked his head to the side, staring at me like some predatory creature considering his best approach. I dropped my bag and kicked out of my sandals. I could do this. Sure, I had no fighting experience, but I had superstrength and speed on my side. Then again maybe this guy did, too. He could be a ninja chupacabra for all I knew. But ~ Molly Harper

Curse it," Bran said the next morning, standing before the fire in shirt and trousers with his shoulder stiffy bandaged. "You think this necessary?"
He pointed at the mail coats lying on the table, their linked steel rings gleaming coldly in the light of two glowglobes. It was well before dawn. The Marquis had woken us himself, with the news that Galdran's forces were nigh. And his messengers had brought from Renselaeus the mail coats, newly made and expensive.
"Treachery--" Shevraeth paused to cough and to catch his breath. He, too, stood there in only shirt and trousers and boots, and I looked away quickly, embarrassed. "We should be prepared for treachery. It was his idea to send archers against you in the mountains. He will have them with him now." He coughed again, the rattling cough of a heavy cold.
I sighed. My own fever and aches had all settled into my throat, and my voice was gone.
Bran was the worst off. Besides the wound in his shoulder, he coughed, sneezed, and sounded hoarse. His eyes and nose watered constantly. Luckily the Renselaeus munificence extended to a besorceled handkerchief that stayed dry and clean despite its heavy use.
Groaning and wincing, Bran lifted his arm just high enough for a couple of equerries to slip the chain mail over his head. As it settled onto him, chinging softly, he winced and said, "Feels like I've got a horse lying athwart my shoulders."
I picked up the one set aside for me and retreated to my room t ~ Sherwood Smith

Our life together was filled with contrasts. One week we were croc hunting with Dateline in Cape York. Only a short time after that, Steve and I found ourselves out of our element entirely, at the CableACE Award banquet in Los Angeles.
Steve was up for an award as host of the documentary Ten Deadliest Snakes in the World. He lost out to the legendary Walter Cronkite. Any time you lose to Walter Cronkite, you can't complain too much. After the awards ceremony, we got roped into an after-party that was not our cup of tea.
Everyone wore tuxedos. Steve wore khaki. Everyone drank, smoked, and made small talk, none of which Steve did at all. We got separated, and I saw him across the room looking quite claustrophobic. I sidled over.
"Why don't we just go back up to our room?" I whispered into his ear. This proved to be a terrific idea. It fit in nicely with our plans for starting a family, and it was quite possibly the best seven minutes of my life!
After our stay in Los Angeles, Steve flew directly back to the zoo, while I went home by way of one my favorite places in the world, Fiji. We were very interested in working there with crested iguanas, a species under threat. I did some filming for the local TV station and checked out a population of the brilliantly patterned lizards on the Fijian island of Yadua Taba.
When I got back to Queensland, I discovered that I was, in fact, expecting. Steve and I were over the moon. I couldn't believe how thrilled he w ~ Terri Irwin

Steve Forman is a brutally funny writer. His no-nonsense, unadorned style begs comparison to Dashiell Hammett, but Hammett's humor at its darkest never hit home this hard. Reading of Eddie Perlmutter's exploits is like rolling in an aisle paved with broken glass and wanting to do it all over again two minutes later. ~ Loren D. Estleman

I used to have the 'Best Of Eddie Murphy' VHS tape that I wore out completely, watching it over and over again. His 'Buckwheat Sings' is, to this day, one of my all-time favorite sketches on the show. I also loved the one where he plays the Tooth Fairy. ~ Taran Killam

All I know is this: if the idea doesn't hurt anybody else, and if it doesn't involve doing anything wrong, and it keeps coming back to you over and over again, I'd give it a try. If God wants you to do it, he'll help you out, and if not, at least you tried. ~ Cheryl Shireman

Just do whatever you want. Say what you want, let yourself feel what you want. That's all that matters - that you find you. But promise me you won't avoid me anymore. How you gonna fall in love with me all over again if you stay away from me?"
"Is that what you want?"
"For you to fall in love with me? Hell yeah. That's all I fuckin' want."
Her shy, nervous laughter floats through the phone. "You don't hold back, do you?"
"Nope."
"But…you'd have to fall in love with me too. Not the me I used to be…because she might be gone. The me I am now and the me I might be someday. ~ Carian Cole

All it took was to see him, to hear those words that I was his, and I was falling in love, so hard and so fast all over again. ~ Karina Halle

A journey, after all, neither begins in the instant we set out, nor ends when we have reached our door step once again. It starts much earlier and is really never over, because the film of memory continues running on inside of us long after we have come to a physical standstill. Indeed, there exists something like a contagion of travel, and the disease is essentially incurable. ~ Ryszard Kapuscinski

But the ultimate truth is that they aren't dead, those people. The writers of books do not truly die; their characters, even the ones who throw themselves in front of trains or are killed in battle, come back to life over and over again. Books are the means to immortality: Plato lives forever, as do Dickens, and Dr. Seuss, Soames Forsyte, Jo March, Scrooge, Anna Karenina, and Vronsky. Over and over again Heathcliff wanders the moors searching for his Cathy. Over and over again Ahab fights the whale. Through them all we experience other times, other places, other lives. We manage to become much more than our own selves. The only dead are those who grow sere and shriveled within, unable to step outside their own lives and into those of others. Ignorance is death. A closed mind is catafalque. ~ Anna Quindlen

I think a lot of people don't have any idea of how deeply segregated our schools have become all over again. Most textbooks are not honest in what they teach our high school students. ~ Jonathan Kozol

We have been through this is biennial convulsion four or five different times over the past 10 or 12 years, and now it appears that we are going through this quiet agony all over again. ~ Everett Dirksen

i am confident i am over you. so much that some mornings i wake up with a smile on my face and my hands pressed together thanking the universe for pulling you out of me. thank god i cry. thank god you left. i would not be the empire i am today if you had stayed.

but then.

there are some nights i imagine what i might do if you showed up. how if you walked into the room this very second every awful thing you've ever done would be tossed out the closet window and all the love would rise up again. it would pour through my eyes as if it never really left in the first place. as if it's been practicing how to stay silent so long only so it could be this loud on your arrival. can someone explain that. how even when the love leaves. it doesn't leave. how even when i am so past you. i am so helplessly brought back to you. ~ Rupi Kaur

She won't rat out on us. Let me talk to her, and she'll see reason."
"I'd give her some time before you attempt it," came the wry answer.
"She usually doesn't stay mad long," Bran said carelessly.
Again habit urged me to move. I knew to stay made me a spy-ears, which no one over the age of four is excused in being, yet I didn't move. I couldn't move. So I stood there and listened--and thus proved the old proverb about eavesdroppers getting what they deserve.
Shevraeth said, "I'm very much afraid it's my fault. We met under the worst of circumstances, and we seem to have misunderstood one another to a lethal degree."
Bran said, "No, if it's anyone's fault, it's ours--my parents' and mine. You have to realize our mother saw Tlanth as a haven from her Court life. All she had to do was potter around her garden and play her harp. I don't think Mel even knows Mother spent a few years at Erev-li-Erval, learning Kheras in the Court of the Empress. Mel scarcely talked before she started hearing stories on the immoral, rotten, lying Court decorations. Mama liked seeing her running wild with Oria and the village brats. Then Mama was killed, and Papa mostly lived shut in his tower, brooding over the past. He didn't seem to know what to do with Mel. She couldn't read or write, wouldn't even sit still indoors--all summer she would disappear for a week at a time, roaming in the hills. I think she knows more about the ways of the Hill Folk than she does about what ac ~ Sherwood Smith

Lady Sarah steps in, wearing her nightclothes under a fluffy ivory robe and a chastising expression. Behind her glasses, her eyes narrow on Henry.
"So this is how it's going to be, then? Married only a few days and I already have to search the palace to drag my husband to bed?"
Henry goes to Sarah, like an invisible rope is reeling him to her. "Dragging me to your bed is something you'll never have to do, love. You can even tie me there whenever you like, and I'll be happy to reciprocate."
He kisses her mouth, as she blushes deep and bright.
She leans back. "Then why are you down here instead of up there with me?"
"There was an emergency."
"What kind of an emergency?"
"You're not going to believe it."
"Try me."
"Logan and Ellie are fucking."
She automatically glances at me, and her cheeks deepen to a shade of crimson. "I'm sure there's a more delicate way to word that, Henry."
Henry nods, soberly. "You're right, I'm sorry. Let me try again: Logan and Ellie are humping, like insatiable randy bunnies, all over the palace."
Sarah shakes her head. "You're hopeless."
The Prince grins broadly. "It's part of my charm."
"What am I going to do with you?"
Henry kisses her again. "Take me to bed. Obviously. ~ Emma Chase

All four of the boys were frozen, mesmerized, the weirdest chill washing over their skin while they watched this miraculous growing animal devouring the earth in every direction, every direction where there was grass and not bothering them at all on the pavement. The fire came as high as their waists, their chests, gorgeous beyond anything they'd seen, the rippling orange sheets hanging in the air like a desert mirage, like something that was there and not there. Black smoke curled above the flames, announcing to the neighborhood this very private thing that Albie had made. Fire! Fire! they'd be calling in the industrial park, even though it was already starting to die out around the edges. The fire needed so much. The boys could see it looking for more grass, anything to keep itself alive. It would have happily burned them up if it meant going for another minute. ~ Ann Patchett

You forgave me in a dream the other night. The more you told me it was alright, the worse I felt. I know that you were only doing it because you knew I couldnt possibly hurt you more than I already had. I could see what forgiving me was doing to you. I know that you think I'm to stupid to figure it all out. When you forgave me, you knew that it was finally over. The pain would leave me, I would forget you and you would never see me again except in a dream. It is sad that the things that we saw in each other are no longer there. It is a shame that we tore each other apart looking for things that we needed desperately but could never find. It is tragic that we only wanted to give each other but only stole from ourselves and blamed each other for the emptiness in our lives. I see you differently now. I no longer fear you. It took years to see you for what you really are. ~ Henry Rollins

Harder yet to get back up without tripping and falling all over again. ~ Ellen Hopkins

And I will make you mine all over again. Every day, for the rest of my life, Solnyshko. That is my promise to you. I will make you fall in love with me every day for a lifetime. ~ A. Zavarelli

Life is atrocious, we know. But precisely because I expect little of the human condition, man's periods of felicity, his partial progress, his efforts to begin over again and continue, all seem to me like so many prodigies which nearly compensate for the monstrous mass of ills and defeats, of indifference and error. Catastrophe and ruin will come; disorder will triumph, but order will too, from time to time. ~ Marguerite Yourcenar

FEARLESS' is not the absense of fear.
It's not being completely unafraid.
FEARLESS is having fears.
FEARLESS is having doubts. Lots of them.
FEARLESS is living in spite of those things that scare you to death.
FEARLESS is falling madly in love again, even though you've been hurt before.
FEARLESS is getting back up and fighting for what you want all over again ... even though every time you've tried before, you've lost.
It's FEARLESS to have faith that someday things will change.
FEARLESS is having the courage to say goodbye to someone who only hurts you, even if you can't breathe without them.
It's FEARLESS to say "you're NOT sorry," and walk away.
I think loving someone despite what people think is FEARLESS. ~ Taylor Swift

Louise." He eased back, cupped her face and kissed her slow and hot and easy. Over and over and over again. Loving how he could. How she let him. "It's all right. We don't have to ... ~ Kylie Scott

Beauty, the world seemed to say. And as if to prove it (scientifically) wherever he looked at the houses, at the railings, at the antelopes stretching over the palings, beauty sprang instantly. To watch a leaf quivering in the rush of air was an exquisite joy. Up in the sky swallows swooping, swerving, flinging themselves in and out, round and round, yet always with perfect control as if elastics held them; and the flies rising and falling; and the sun spotting now this leaf, now that, in mockery, dazzling it with soft gold in pure good temper; and now again some chime (it might be a motor horn) tinkling divinely on the grass stalks - all of this, calm and reasonable as it was, made out of ordinary things as it was, was the truth now; beauty, that was the truth now. Beauty was everywhere. ~ Virginia Woolf

We all have a great time. And then I go to bed, get up and do it all over again. I like my life. ~ Bonnie Tyler