Quotes About Change

I suppose we'll get used to being grownup in time. There won't be so many unexpected things about it by and by–though, after all, I fancy it's the unexpected things that give spice to life.

Life is only beginning for you now . . . since at last you're quite free and independent. And you never know what may be around the next bend in the road

There's something very solemn about the idea of a new year, isn't there? Just think of three hundred and sixty-five whole days with not a thing happened in them yet.

Holmes speaks of grief "staining backward" through the pages of life; but Valancy found her happiness had stained backward likewise and flooded with rose-colour her whole previous drab existence. She found it hard to believe that she had ever been lonely and unhappy and afraid.

It is never pleasant to have our old shrines desecrated, even when we have outgrown them.

Changes ain't totally pleasant but they're excellent things... Two years is about long enough for things to stay exactly the same. If they stayed put any longer they might grow mossy.

Marilla loved the [more grown up] girl as much as she had loved the child, but she was conscious of a queer sorrowful sense of loss.

Oh, aren't you glad it is spring? The beauty of winter is that it makes you appreciate spring.

It is too hard yet to realize that they're grown up. When I look at those two tall sons of mine I wonder if they can possibly be the fat, sweet, dimpled babies I kissed and cuddled and sang to slumber the other day - only the other day...

The trouble is, my mind changes and then I have to get acquainted with it all over again.

And there was always the bend in the road!

Changes ain't totally pleasant but they're excellent things. Two years is about long enough for things to stay the same. If they stayed put any longer they might grow mossy. - Mr Harrison

For, disguise the fact as we will, when friends, even the closest—perhaps the more because of that very closeness—meet again after a separation there is always a chill, lesser or greater, of change. Neither finds the other quite the same. This is natural and inevitable. Human nature is ever growing or retrogressing—never stationary.

This is my night for being Betty, because I love everything in the world tonight. I was Elizabeth last night, and tomorrow night I'll probably be Beth. It all depends on how I feel.' ... 'How very nice to have a name you can change so easily and still feel it's your own.

Oh, Marilla, she exclaimed one Saturday morning, coming dancing in with her arms full of gorgeous boughs 'I'm so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers. It would be terrible if we just skipped from September to November, wouldn't it?

Non è mai prudente pensare che per noi sia già finita. Quando crediamo di aver scritto la parola fine sulla nostra storia, ecco che il destino usa lo stratagemma di voltare pagina e ci svela che c'è un capitolo ancora.

Oh, what would the world be without youth? And yet it passes so quickly. We are old before we know it. We never believe it ... and then some day we wake up and discover we are old.

And did she talk to him after that as usual? asked Sara Ray. Oh, yes, she was just the same as she used to be, said the Story Girl wearily. But that doesn't belong to the story. It stops when she spoke at last. You're never satisfied to leave a story where it should stop, Sara Ray.

April came tiptoeing in beautifully that year with sunshine and soft winds for a few days; and then a driving northeast snowstorm dropped a white blanket over the world

Just imagine -- this night week I'll be in Avonlea -- delightful thought! said Anne, bending over the box in which she was packing Mrs. Rachel Lynde's quilts. But just imagine -- this night week I'll be gone forever from Patty's Place -- horrible thought!

Oh, well, I won't call you 'Johnny' any more. After this I'll call you 'Sammy,' which was, of course, adding fuel to the fire.

I'm not a bit changed –not really. I'm only just pruned down and branched out. The real me — back here — is just the same. It won't make a bit of difference where I go or how much I change outwardly; at heart I shall always be your little Anne, who will love you and Matthew and dear Green Gables more and better every day of her life.

It is never quite safe to think we have done with life.

She had heard her mother say that she loved turns in roads—they were so provocative and alluring. Rilla thought she hated them. She had seen Jem and Jerry vanish from her around a bend in the road—then Walter—and now Ken. Brothers and playmate and sweetheart—they were all gone, never, it might be, to return. Yet still the Piper piped and the dance of death went on.