Quotes About Metamorphosis

Time had a way of moulding people into shapes they themselves no longer recognised.

No single thing abides; but all things flow. Fragment to fragment clings - the things thus grow Until we know them and name them. By degrees They melt, and are no more the things we know.

In the process of evolution, the body lasts for some time and then will take other body and take other body and take other body until the final redemption from diversity is transcended.

A child, then a man, now a feather / Passing through a furious fire / Called time.

Everything is winged in this universe, even a rock! When the time comes, rock crumbles into tiny pieces and starts flying in the air!

The novel moves like all the arts. It's transforming itself all the time.

It's time to tear up the canvas and start over. It's time for the overhaul of humanity.

Everything has its limit - iron ore cannot be educated into gold.

Maybe one morning I'll wake up and step outside of myself to look back at the old me lying dead among the sheets.

I let the front door slam shut behind me and the fly screen rattle. It was as if each door was kicking me out of the old life I'd lived in that house. I was being thrown out into the world, new. The broken, leaning gate creaked open, let me out, and I gently placed it shut. I was gone, and from down the street, maybe fifty yards away, I looked back for a second at the house where I lived. It wasn't the same any more. It never would be. I kept walking.

The world is lightening, taking shape, and turning to color.

What we call happening, no matter whether in a narrower or wider sense, is movement, a becoming-other, a becoming.

turned over a new leaf

We all know that a winter scene, though it may be covered over one day, with even the trees dressed in shawls of snow, will be unrecognizable the following spring. Yet I never imagined such a thing could occur within our very selves.

We all know that a winter scene, though it may be covered one day, with even the trees dressed in shawls of snow, will be unrecognizable the following spring.

When I unwrapped the moth from its funeral shroud, it was the same startlingly lovely creature as on the day I had entombed it. Everything about it seemed beautiful and perfect, and so utterly unchanged.

My existence was as unstable as a stream, changing in every way; but the moth was like a piece of stone, changing not at all.

We all know that a winter scene, though it may be covered over one day, with even the trees dressed in shawls of snow, will be unrecognizable the following spring. Yet I had never imagined such a thing could occur within our very selves.

Todos sabemos que una escena invernal de árboles cubiertos con mantos de nieve sería irreconocible a la primavera siguiente. No me podía imaginar, sin embargo, que algo así podía suceder dentro de nosotros mismos.

A book, a poem, a play — they start as fantasms but they end up as things, like a box of crackers or an automobile tire.

the orange circle faded to a coiled spring of dully glowing grey.

Para conducir al hombre a un estado mejor, no bastaría con ponerle en un mundo mejor, sino que seria preciso de toda necesidad transformarle totalmente, hacer de modo que no sea lo que es y que llegara a ser lo que no es.

There was no trace of the slim, attractive girl that she had been.

Later became a horrible, menacing, goose-bumpy word.