Starting Over Again Quotes

Each project, I suffer like I'm starting over again in life. There's a lot of healthy insecurity that fuels this stuff. ~ Frank Gehry

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

When writers who are just starting out ask me when it gets easier, my answer is never. It never gets easier. I don't want to scare them, so I rarely say more than that, but the truth is that, if anything, it gets harder. The writing life isn't just filled with predictable uncertainties but with the awareness that we are always starting over again. That everything we ever write will be flawed. We may have written one book, or many, but all we know - if we know anything at all - is how to write the book we're writing. All novels are failures. Perfection itself would be a failure. All we can hope is that we will fail better. That we won't succumb to fear of the unknown. That we will not fall prey to the easy enchantments of repeating what may have worked in the past. I try to remember that the job - as well as the plight, and the unexpected joy - of the artist is to embrace uncertainty, to be sharpened and honed by it. To be birthed by it. Each time we come to the end of a piece of work, we have failed as we have leapt - spectacularly, brazenly - into the unknown. ~ Dani Shapiro

Sir, will you marry me? ~ Toni Gonzaga

I had no interest in starting over again, but there are some people whom we grant the role of oracle in our lives and when they speak
rarely, gravely
we are well-advised to listen. ~ Ann Patchett

We spend so much time scrambling from one thing to the next, getting through it, getting to the end, and starting over again, that I would not forget to fully breathe in the miniscule moments of beauty and peace. ~ Barbara Ehrenreich

How can you not forgive someone who made you a better person? ~ Piolo Pascual

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

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

And so, it comes to pass in time, that the earth ceases for us to be a weltering chaos. We walk in the great hall of life, looking up and round reverentially. Nothing is despicable - all is meaningful; nothing is small - all is part of a whole, whose beginning and end we know not. The life that throbs in us is a pulsation from it; too mighty for our comprehension, no too small.
And so, it comes to pass at last, that whereas the sky was at first a small blue rag stretched out over us and so low that our hands might touch it, pressing down on us, it raises itself into an immeasurable blue arch over our heads, and we begin to live again. ~ Olive Schreiner

It seems that awareness gives our life context and connects us to the world and its peoples, and that as we learn, we remake ourselves over and over again. ~ Tamara Pearson

Kaylee,
For over a hundred years, magicians have been pulling objects out of hats. Rabbits, flowers... It's become such a famous trick that rabbits are known to represent magic in general.
I'm a magician. I've been pulling things from hats since I learned the trick at ten years old. It's all about sleight of hand. Misdirection.
Distraction.
What people don't really know is it isn't the magician that makes the trick magical. It's the object. What is a zig-zag box without the blades? What is a cage without a dove?
The object is the spark--the real reason why the illusion is worth seeing, worth doing, worth discovering.
Sometimes magicians lose their rabbits. They get lost in the act, or the magician makes a mistake and has to coax the rabbit back out. Because without the rabbit, the trick is useless. Without the rabbit, the hat becomes insignificant.
Kaylee Elizabeth Sperling, you are the rabbit to my hat, and I love you. Please forgive me for losing the spark in your trick. I will do whatever I can to make it up to you, starting with this deck of cards. 52 reasons why I love you. And I could fill another deck. Perhaps two more or three.
Whatever it takes to coax my rabbit back out.
-Nate ~ Cassie Mae

Just as a snake sheds its skin, we must shed our past over and over again. ~ Gautama Buddha

Nope," she managed. "No other questions."
Eleven centuries of captivity. Hung on his hated enemy's study wall. Eleven centuries of not touching. Not eating. Not loving. Had he had anyone to talk
to?
Her face must have betrayed her thoughts, for he startled her by saying softly, " 'Tis no longer of
consequence, lass, but thank you for the compassion. 'Tis nigh over. Seventeen more days, Jessica. That's all."
For some reason his words brought a sudden hot burn of tears to the backs of her eyes. Not only hadn't eleven centuries turned him into a monster, he was trying to soothe her, to make her feel better about his imprisonment.
"You weep for me, woman?"
She turned away. "It's been a long day. Hell, it's been a long week."
"Jessica." Her name was a soft command.
She disobeyed it, staring out the window at the rolling hills.
"Jessica, look at me."
Eyes bright with unshed tears, she whipped her head around and glared at him. "I weep for you, okay?" she snapped. "For eleven centuries stuck in there. Can I start driving again or do you need something else?"
He smiled faintly, raised his hand, and splayed his palm against the inside of the silvery glass. Without an ounce of conscious thought, her hand rose to
meet his, aligning on the cool silver,
palm to palm, finger to finger, thumb to thumb. And though she felt only a cold hardness beneath her palm, the gesture made something go all warm and soft in her heart.< ~ Karen Marie Moning

Don't bore the universe. ~ Anas Khan (Tech Savvy)

Toward the small pond that he had seen before. The walls of fire ended there. An instant later the remains of the cottage exploded. He ducked and rolled again from the concussive force, almost pitching into the right side of the wall of fire. He rose and redoubled his efforts, thinking that he would reach the water. Water was a great antidote to fire. But as he neared the edge of the pond, something struck him. No scum. No algae on the surface although the ground around was full of it. What could kill green scum? And why was he being forced to run right toward the one thing that could possibly save him? Robie tossed his gun over the top of the wall of flames, pulled off his jacket, covered his head and hands with it, and threw himself through the wall of flames on the left side. ~ David Baldacci

There's a great deal of relief in goodbyes and a lot of promise in hellos. ~ Laarni Venus Marie Giango

You've always been one of many," she said brutally. "There are dozens of us Howard girls, all with good breeding, all well taught, all pretty, all young, all fertile. They can throw one after another on the table and see if one is lucky. It's no real loss to them if one after another is taken up and then thrown aside. There's always another Howard girl conceived, there's always another whore in the nursery. You were one of many before you were even born. If he does not cleave to you then you go back to William, they find another Howard girl to tempt him, and the dance starts all over again. ~ Philippa Gregory

In the last four years, I heard the same thing over and over again from people: 'We've had enough,' 'Our country is drifting,' 'We've lost our way.' ~ Ted Yoho

Just because someone desires you, it does not mean that they value you.
Read it over.
Again.
Let those words resonate in your mind. ~ Nayyirah Waheed

So many films end up being filmed in London or in the same places over and over again. ~ Alice Lowe

Dying is a troublesome business: there is pain to be suffered, and it wrings one's heart; but death is a splendid thing - a warfare accomplished, a beginning all over again, a triumph. You can always see that in their faces. ~ George Bernard Shaw

Certain portions of the earth, escaping utter destruction, become the seedbeds for replenishing the human race, and so it happens that on a world that is not young there are young populations having no culture, whose traditions were swept away in a debacle; they wander over the earth and gradually put aside the roughness of a nomadic existence and by natural inclunation submit to communities and associations; their mode of living is at first simple, knowking no guile and strange to cunning, called in its early stage the Golden Age. [16] The more these populations progress in civilization and employment of the arts, the more easily does the spirit of rivalry creep in, at first commendable but imperceptibly changing to envy; this, then, is responsible for all the tribulations that the race suffers in subsequent ages. So much for the vicissitudes that civilizations experience, of perishing and arising again, as the world goes on unchanged.
[Chapter X - 15,16] ~ Ambrosius Theodosius Macrobius

But had they not paid that advance we would have lost much more, we would have started to go and look for the product all over again, the refinery would have stopped working. ~ Phumzile Mlambo-Ngcuka

A man makes no noise over a good deed, but passes on to another as a vine to bear grapes again in season. ~ Marcus Aurelius

I could see the corridor window, where the wires-six thin black wires-were doing their best to slant up, to ascend skyward, despite the lightning blows dealt them by one telegraph pole after another; but just as all six, in a triumphant swoop of pathetic elation, were about to reach the top of the window, a particularly vicious blow would bring them down, as low as they had ever been, and they would have to start all over again. ~ Vladimir Nabokov

...for those who value stability, who fear transience, uncertainty, change, have erected a powerful system of stigmas and taboos against rootlessness, that disruptive, anti-social force, so that we mostly conform, we pretend to be motivated by loyalties and solidarities we do not really feel, we hide our secret identities beneath the false skins of those identities which bear the belongers' seal of approval. But the truth leaks out in our dreams; alone in our beds (because we are all alone at night, even if we do not sleep by ourselves), we soar, we fly, we flee. And in the waking dreams our societies permit, in our myths, our arts, our songs, we celbrate the non-belongers, the different ones, the outlaws, the freaks. What we forbid ourselves we pay good money to watch, in a playhouse or movie theatre, or to read about between the secret covers of a book. Our libraries, our palaces of entertainment tell the truth. The tramp, the assassin, the rebel, the thief, the mutant, the outcast, the delinquent, the devil, the sinner, the traveller, the gangster, the runner, the mask: if we did not recognize in them our least-fulfilled needs, we would not invent them over and over again, in every place, in every language, in every time. ~ Salman Rushdie

You do admit that, if wealth was divided up equally, in a few years there would be rich and poor again just the same. The hard-working man would come to the top, the wastrel sink to the bottom.
- Every one admits that.
- Your Socialists don't.
- My Socialists do. Yours mayn't; but I strongly suspect yours of being not Socialists, but ninepins, which you have constructed for your own amusement. I can't imagine any living creature who would bowl over quite so easily. ~ E. M. Forster

*One clue that there's something not quite real about sequential time the way you experience it is the various paradoxes of time supposedly passing and of a so-called 'present' that's always unrolling into the future and creating more and more past behind it. As if the present were this car - nice car by the way - and the past is the road we've just gone over, and the future is the headlit road up ahead we haven't yet gotten to, and time is the car's forward movement, and the precise present is the car's front bumper as it cuts through the fog of the future, so that it's now and then a tiny bit later a whole different now, etc. Except if time is really passing, how fast does it go? At what rate does the present change? See? Meaning if we use time to measure motion or rate - which we do, it's the only way you can - 95 miles per hour, 70 heartbeats a minute, etc. - how are you supposed to measure the rate at which time moves? One second per second? It makes no sense. You can't even talk about time flowing or moving without hitting up against paradox right away. So think for a second: What if there's really no movement at all? What if this is all unfolding in the one flash you call
the present, this first, infinitely tiny split-second of impact when the speeding car's front bumper's just starting to touch the abutment, just before the bumper crumples and displaces the front end and you go violently forward and the steering column comes back at your chest as if shot out of s ~ David Foster Wallace

I warned you back in Augustville that I'd bust your nose if you ever talked to me about her again." Jake shook his head. "Actually, you threatened to knock my damn teeth out." "I can do both," Bowie said with a growl. He turned his attention back to the open door ten feet away. "Oh, I know you can," Jake said with another laugh. "But that's not going to stop me. You know why?" "Because you haven't gotten over that death wish? ~ Adrienne Bell

I don't have very many regrets, not because I lived a perfect life but because life is a bunch of rolling hills, not mountains, or speed bumps instead of stop signs, and so you come to a situation and it's neither good or bad, it just is, and what it means to you is what's your take on it. But the second part of the equation is what are you going to do about it. A lot of times I'm completely wrong, but all you do is back up and start over. ~ Bill Russell

You must live every moment of your life in such a way that if you had to live it over and over again till infinity, this would be a good thing. ~ Tanuja Desai Hidier

I went to grab the perfect shade of green and realized I didn't have it. How could bamboo be colored with primary green? I blew out a frustrated breath and looked back into the box.

Rand was crouched beside me, his hand resting gently on my back. His touch was light but also strong and reassuring. I couldn't help but lean into him, even if I swore to myself I wasn't. "What's wrong?"

"This green isn't right for the bamboo." Because that was the most normal sentence I'd ever uttered.

"What about these colors?" he pulled out a pink crayon, then a blue, and finally a purple.

"Bamboo is green! But it isn't primary green."

To his credit, Rand didn't look at me like I had four heads. But then again, he picked up the blue crayon and handed it to me. "I think blue and pink and purple bamboo would be perfect."

My mouth hung open, and I tried to argue. "No! No, it's not."

Rand rubbed his hand over my head. "Kyle, it's coloring in a children's coloring book. You aren't entering this into an art contest. It can be blue and purple and yellow and orange if you want it to be. It can be out of the lines, it can be scribbles on the page. You aren't trying to imitate life right now. You're coloring a picture that I can hang on the fridge and we can smile at."

"The fridge?"

"I'm going to take the green away completely if you keep worrying about it."

I gasped in horror. "You wouldn't!" I ~ Carly Marie

After a long moment, Cadan said, "What - what is it for?" His voice cracked as he spoke, and Stewart threw him an irritated look.
Lin made a little noise that would have sounded like a laugh if there had been any real mirth in it. "They didn't tell us THAT."
"And it-" Cadan swallowed, then continued.
"Lissa said it hurts?"
"Hurts?" Lin let her hair slide back over her neck, raised her head to look at him. "Yes, it hurts." Once again there was a sound like laughter in her voice, but with a note to it that made Elissa go cold.
-Linked, pp 265 ~ Imogen Howson

I feel shock splinter through him, his body going rigid. Then he relaxes, melting into me, stepping forward until I am caught between him and the wall, the torch crackling beside me. His hands slide down my back, over my hips and thighs, leaving a trail of fire. His heart beats fast enough for the both of us, its thunderous pulse echoing through me.
I bury my hands in his dark hair, fingers knotting around those thick locks. Desire pulls at my stomach, and I lean into him, lifting one leg and wrapping it around his waist. He lifts me, and my other leg coils around him, my skirts sliding up my thighs, my back pressed against the column.
His lips are soft and warm and gentle, underlined with barely restrained urgency. I cannot get enough of him. I pull his kurta over his head and let it fall on the floor. I press my hands against his bared chest, feel his heart against my palm, his lungs rising and falling. His shoulder is knotted with the scar from the arrow he took for me. He kisses me again, this time more strongly, and I run my hands down his jaw and neck, over his shoulders, the taut muscles of his back.
He turns, without letting me go or breaking our kiss, and we tumble onto the soft divan. Aladdin holds himself over me, his abdomen clenched and his hair hanging across his forehead. His lips wander downward, to my chin, to the curve of my jaw, to my neck.
My hands are ravenous, exploring the planes and angles of his body. His fingers find mine, and our ~ Jessica Khoury

When I call his name, it's a sound almost entirely out of my control. It soars over the crowd and hits him. Even from where I'm standing, I can tell that he recognized my voice. Hastily he unwinds himself from the girl, stands to attention like an animal sensing danger. And I try to call him again, but that word, that name, was all I had the energy for. I barely have the strength left to stand.
I wait helplessly for him to find the sound, and when he does, when his heterochromatic eyes meet mine, my mouth forms the word again, but just barely. The girl at his side disappears. The crowd blurs into senseless shapes and colors. I can't feel my heart or my body or the heat of the flames.
I can only see his face - his bewildered, beautifully familiar face. ~ Lauren DeStefano

There is something of yours I would like to return to you."
"What?"
He leaned across the distance between them and caught her mouth with his own. Her eyes fluttered closed and her lips parted easily as she felt the kiss sizzling through her nerves, rendering her thoughts to smoke.
"Um..." Kaye stepped make, a little unsteadily. "Why does that belong to me?"
"That was the kiss I stole from you when you were enchanted," he said patiently.
"Oh...well, what if I didn't want it?"
"You don't?"
No," she said, letting a grin spread across her face, hoping her mother would take her time of the drive over. "I'd like you to take it back again, please."
"I am your servant," the King of the Unseelie Court said, his lips a moment from her own, "Consider it done. ~ Holly Black

..she can feel that burden sometimes like a wall pressing in over the dome of the false sky that bounds the city.
*Someone has to*, she says again, as if the ghost is somewhere in the machines that create this Seaheaven, as if he might have cared and turns away, walks back down the vivid street, the dust soft and almost real against her feet. ~ Melissa Scott

i wanted to take
your hand and run with you
together toward
ourselves down the street to your street
i wanted to laugh aloud
and skip the notes past
the marquee advertising "women
in love" past the record
shop with "The Spirit
In The Dark" past the smoke shop
past the park and no
parking today signs
past the people watching me in
my blue velvet and i don't remember
what you wore but only that i didn't want
anything to be wearing you
i wanted to give
myself to the cyclone that is
your arms
and let you in the eye of my hurricane and know
the calm before

and some fall evening
after the cocktails
and the very expensive and very bad
steak served with day-old baked potatoes
after the second cup of coffee taken
while listening to the rejected
violin player
maybe some fall evening
when the taxis have passed you by
and that light sort of rain
that occasionally falls
in new york begins
you'll take a thought
and laugh aloud
the notes carrying all the way over
to me and we'll run again
together
toward each other
yes? ~ Nikki Giovanni

Principles are concepts that can be applied over and over again in similar circumstances as distinct from narrow answers to specific questions. Every game has principles that successful players master to achieve winning results. So does life. Principles are ways of successfully dealing with the laws of nature or the laws of life. Those who understand more of them and understand them well know how to interact with the world more effectively than those who know fewer of them or know them less well. ~ Ray Dalio

The best thing I ever learned when I first started acting is that you audition, and then you forget about it when you walk out the door. Even when you have a callback, you can't bank on things until you actually book that job, or your heart will just be broken over and over again. ~ Allison Tolman

The whole construct of my universe was a cunning, entangled network of lies. I had to start over again. I knew that. And I had to begin by ceasing to loathe myself for my difference from the rest. ~ Pat Conroy

What?" I shrieked and slapped his chest again ...
"Ouch." He rubbed the spot. "Does it disturb you that I'm kind of getting turned on right now?"
I shook my head. "Seriously?"
"Maybe?" he murmured, dipping his head and causing the ends sticking out from under the skullcap to sway. "I'm pretty erect right now to be honest."
"Oh my God ... " I rubbed my hand over my hot cheek ...
"Want to smack me again? You could try my ass. I'll probably like that."
I stared at him. ~ J. Lynn

My style is kind of eclectic and I don't like to do the same thing over and over again. I like to have fun and explore myself so you won't see the same design. ~ Venus Williams

3D really altered the way I shot the movie completely, and it was exciting because, after 20 years of filmmaking, I felt like I was making my first movie, all over again. ~ Paul W. S. Anderson

I'm so sorry," he said between kisses. "For what I said that night. For leaving you earlier. I never meant-"
"I know," she whispered, wrapping a leg over his lip and shinnying up his body. Her lips grazed his ear. "I know. Just don't leave me again."
"Never." The word burst out like an oath or a prayer, and God help him, he meant it. "Never," he repeated, looking straight into her glimmering eyes. Then he sealed the vow with a kiss, deep and desperate and true. "Oh God," he groaned when their lips finally parted.
She kissed him again, working her warm, slender fingers under the collar of his shirt to stroke the chilled flesh of his shoulders and back. He buries his face in her neck, inhaling the beautiful scent of her. He'd forgotten how roses smell sweetest after a rain. Trailing light kisses down to her collarbone, he began carrying her toward the bed.
"Make love to me, Gray."
She didn't need to ask. They both knew what was going to happen. But Gray felt the significance of her words. He might have bedded ladies and whores the world over, but for the first time in his life, he was going to make love to a woman. And not just a woman. His woman.
And this idea that should have been so unthinkable, so frightening-to his surprise, Gray found it wildly arousing. They tumbled together onto the narrow bed, and she began pulling his shirt free of his trousers. He rose up on his knees and impatiently yanked it over his head.
He peered at her frock i ~ Tessa Dare

If you do your best always, over and over again, you will become a master of transformation. Practice makes the master. By doing your best you become a master. Everything you have ever learned, you learned through repetition. You learned to write, to drive, and even to walk by repetition. You are a master of speaking your language because you practiced. Action is what makes the difference. ~ Miguel Ruiz

I have just four words to leave with you. Four words that have spoken volumes of truth into my life.'
He wanted the words to stay in the room, to remain long after he had gone. Though no one wished to hear Paul's radical injunction, it had to be told.
'In everything, give thanks.'
This was the lifeboat in any crisis. Over and over again, he had learned this, and over and over again, he had to be reminded. ~ Jan Karon

As a born-again child of God, you have absolute authority over the devil through Jesus Christ. ~ Pedro Okoro