Quotes About Metamorphosis

In the very earliest times, when both people and animals lived on earth, a person could become an animal if he wanted to, and an animal could become a human being. Sometimes they were people and sometimes animals and there was no difference. All spoke the same language. That was the time when words were like magic. NALUNGLAQ, A NETSILIK ESKIMO

I just pretended I was someone else until that someone else became me.

You lack the courage to be consumed in flames and to become ashes: so you will never become new, and never young again!

You will find that there is no death at all, in the true sense of the word, but everything goes on living, transmuting and becoming perfect according to primitive laws.

Nothing ever truly dies. The universe wastes nothing, everything is simply transformed.

Death is simply a shedding of the physical body, like the butterfly coming out of a cocoon. . . . It's like putting away your winter coat when spring comes.

Death is just where your suit falls off and now you're in your other suit. You can't see it on this level, but it's all right. Don't worry.

Death, is not an end, but a transition crisis. All the forms of decay are but masks of regeneration--the secret alembics of vitality.

Whenever anything changes and quits its proper limits, this change is at once the death of that which was before.

After his death the gardener does not become a butterfly, intoxicated by the perfumes of the flowers, but a garden worm tasting all the dark, nitrogenous, and spicy delights of the soil.

We are ever dying to one world and being born into another.

People after death become complete again. The blind can see, the deaf can hear, cripples are no longer crippled after all their vital signs have ceased to exist.

I think death is just a transition to another state of consciousness.

I have seen them gentle, tame, and meek, That now are wild, and do not once remember

Health and life, I would say, in the full and final sense of those words, are not what we die out of, but what we die into

Twelfth night, of all the nights of the year, is one where shapes shift and identities flicker.

we ourselves will be transubstantiated, we shall be angels

Wenda's chest and hips shrank, her shoulders and arms turned muscular and her body became lean and hard where it had been rounded and soft. The hair of her head shortened drastically, and a mustache sprouted on her upper lip. Her delicate human feet had become hard hooves. She was now not a nymph but a faun. Physically; she would never be male in spirit.

Publius Ovidius Naso

Phoebus amat visaeque cupit conubia Daphnes, quodque cupit, sperat, suaque illum oracula fallunt ??

Change is good.

You must change your life.

And change isn't destruction. It's just change.

Mrs. Basil E.