The past is the present and the future too.
The line was adopted from Eugene O'Neill. See XXX.
Everything that ever has been always will be, and everything that ever will be always has been.
The Wheel of Time turns, and Ages come and pass, leaving memories that become legend. Legend fades to myth, and even myth is long forgotten when the Age that gave it birth comes again.
Each thing is of like form from everlasting and comes round again in its cycle.
What is history? An echo of the past in the future; a reflex from the future on the past.
All truth is crooked, time itself is a circle
What if what has been said one time not only does not cease to be said but always recommences, and not only recommences but also imposes upon us the idea that nothing has ever truly begun, having from the beginning begun by beginning again.
Time is different for a tree than for a man. Sun and soil and water, these are the things a weirwood understands, not days and years and centuries. For men, time is a river. We are trapped in its flow, hurtling from past to present, always in the same direction. The lives of trees are different. They root and grow and die in one place, and that river does not move them. The oak is the acorn, the acorn is the oak.
I'm a staunch believer that we are in an earth cycle. There's no question the planet is changing, and the fact that the Mayans had an end date and their history talks of change, I find that fascinating.
What has been will be again, what has been done will be done again; there is nothing new under the sun
The idea of eternal return is a mysterious one, and Nietzsche has often perplexed other philosophers with it: to think that everything recurs as we once experienced it, and that the recurrence itself recurs ad infinitum! What does this mad myth signify?
It's been my experience, Langford, that the past always has a way of returning. Those who don't learn, or can't remember it, are doomed to repeat it.
Happiness is the longing for repetition.
It's interesting because a lot of my 16-year-old kids' friends know me from 'Wedding Crashers,' and not so much Bond. My kids have a good laugh. I was 20 then. The look I had then was the look that a lot of their friends are assuming now. They think it's cool. What goes around comes around.
In the alluvial sweep of the land, I thought I could see the past and the present and the future all at once, as though time were not sequential in nature but took place without a beginning or an end, like a flash of green light rippling outward from the center of creation, not unlike a dream inside the mind of God.
A way a lone a last a loved a long the riverrun, past Eve and Adam's, from swerve of shore to bend of bay, brings us by a commodius vicus of recirculation back to Howth Castle and Environs.
She leaned forward and kissed me on the lips. He mouth was cold, her lips rough from the winter wind, and if the mystics are right and we are doomed to repeat our squalid lives ad infinitum, at least I will always return to that kiss
Time present and time past Are both perhaps present in time future, And time future contained in time past. If all time is eternally present All time is unredeemable.
I've got news for Mr. Santayana: we're doomed to repeat the past no matter what. That's what it is to be alive.
He was referring to Santayana’s famous quotation: {33301}.
Painting doesn't freeze time. It circulates and recycles time like a wheel that turns. Those who were first might well be last. Painting is a very slow art. It doesn't travel with the speed of light. That's why dead painters shine so bright.
I love better to count time from spring to spring; it seems to me far more cheerful to reckon the year by blossoms than by blight.
Everything that has been will be, everything that will be is, everything that will be has been.
And the end and the beginning were always there Before the beginning and after the end.
The future is always here in the past
The world does not move through time as if it were a straight line, proceeding from the past to the future. Instead time moves through and within us, in endless spirals. Eternity does not mean infinite time, but simply timelessness.