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Throughout history, knowledge rises and falls, ebbs and flows. what once was known is forgotten again, lost in time, sometimes for centuries, only to be rediscovered ages later.
-James Rollins
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Throughout History, Knowledge Rises And Falls, Ebbs

James Rollins
Throughout history, knowledge rises and falls, ebbs and flows. what once was known is forgotten again, lost in time, sometimes for centuries, only to be rediscovered ages later.
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Fall Ebb And Flow Age

More From James Rollins

Truly it has been said that there is nothing new under the sun, for knowledge is revealed and is submerged again, even as a nation rises and falls. here is a system, tested throughout the ages, but lost again and again by ignorance or prejudice, in the same way that great nations have risen and fallen and been lost to history beneath the desert sands and in the ocean depths.
Fall Ocean Ignorance
The endless cycle of idea and action, endless invention, endless experiment, brings knowledge of motion, but not of stillness; knowledge of speech, but not of silence; knowledge of words, and ignorance of the word. all our knowledge brings us nearer to our ignorance, all our ignorance brings us nearer to death, but nearness to death no nearer to god. where is the life we have lost in living? where is the wisdom we have lost in knowledge? where is the knowledge we have lost in information? the cycles of heaven in twenty centuries bring us farther from god and nearer to the dust.
Ignorance Dust Ideas
Strip back the beliefs pasted on by governesses, schools, and states, you find indelible truths at one's core. rome'll decline and fall again, cortés'll lay tenochtitlán to waste again, and later, ewing will sail again, adrian'll be blown to pieces again, you and i'll sleep under the corsican stars again, i'll come to bruges again, fall in and out of love with eva again, you'll read this letter again, the sun'll grow cold again. nietzsche's gramophone record. when it ends, the old one plays it again, for an eternity of eternities.
Stars Fall School
From the root, the sap rises up into the artist, flows through him, flows to his eye. overwhelmed and activated by the force of the current, he conveys his vision into his work. and yet, standing at his appointed place as the trunk of the tree, he does nothing other than gather and pass on what rises from the depths. he neither serves nor commands he transmits. his position is humble. and the beauty at the crown is not his own; it has merely passed through him.
Eye Humble Artist
When you're lost in those woods, it sometimes takes you a while to realize that you are lost. for the longest time, you can convince yourself that you've just wandered off the path, that you'll find your way back to the trailhead any moment now. then night falls again and again, and you still have no idea where you are, and it's time to admit that you have bewildered yourself so far off the path that you don't even know from which direction the sun rises anymore.
Life Depression Fall
I toyed briefly with an image someone once mentioned to me, of a village in the shadow of a twin-peaked mountain. in the morning the sun rises. at lunch it sets behind the mountain. in the early afternoon it rises once more. the cocks crow for the second time, and later the sun sets again. no. one peak. metaphors should not be belaboured.
Morning Lunch Crow
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