Quotes About Change

I walk. I talk. I shop. I sneeze. I'm gonna be a fireman when the floods roll back. There's trees in the desert since you moved out, and I don't sleep on a bed of bones.

I leave the world in terrible turmoil. I come back, same turmoil. Nothing at all different. Well, outfits are a little different...

I don't think that I can change the world, I just want to punch it up a little.

It is good to know, no matter how long I am gone...you do not grow up too much.

I'm pissed like this rutting beast can't conceive - I'm a lifetime of pissed, of strong, of muscle built over bruise, I'm slick with power and feel the fight as it changes... As it flows... ...Everything into place, perfect, and I finally do what I was born to do. I slay.

It's not about making money; it's about taking money. Destroying the Status Quo. Because the Status is not Quo!

Though we have instructions and a map buried in our hearts when we enter this world, nothing quite prepares us for the abrupt shift to the breathing realm.

Once there were songs for everything, Songs for planting, for growing, for harvesting, For eating, getting drunk, falling asleep, For sunrise, birth, mind-break, and war. For death (those are the heaviest songs and they Have to be pried from the earth with shovels of grief). Now all we hear are falling-in-love songs and Falling apart after falling in love songs.

Nobody goes anywhere though we are always leaving and returning. It's a ceremony. Sunrise occurs everywhere, in lizard time, human time, or a fern uncurling time.

We get frantic in our loving. The distance between Santa Fe and Albuquerque shifts and changes. It is moments; it is years. I am next to you in skin and blood and then I am not. I tremble and grasp at the edges of myself; I let go into you.

Nothing ever stays the same, whether it be poems or humans.

I was anything but history. I was the wind.

It is in times like these that we face the most cunning of tricksters. We might even find a trickster in the seat of power.

What you call your personality, you know? --it's not like actual bones, or teeth, something solid. It's more like a flame. A flame can be upright, and a flame can flicker in the wind, a flame can be extinguished so there's no sign of it, like it had never been.

You wake up one morning, those years are gone. There's a comfort in this fact perhaps. I want to think that there must be comfort in all facts we can't alter.

Sometimes people surprise us. People we believe we know.

Like a flame is real enough, isn't it, while it's burning?-even if there's a time it goes out?

The person you love best, you share the world with. When that person's gone the world remains but it isn't the same thing, it's at a distance.

Did you know, Marianne: how by breaking the code that day, you broke it forever? For us all?

Oh, it's a terrible, cruel thing—first you're young, and that takes up such a long time you think it's forever, then suddenly you're not young, and you never get used to it—and, oh dear, there's just the one way out.

the hopeful young author had no doubt that books might change the world.

No way of life so entrenched will ever 'wither away' - it must be helped, with dynamite, if need be.

For isn't the artist by nature a revolutionary?

The place where you came from ain't there any more, and where you had in mind to go is cancelled out. This place you are now—inside your daddy's house—is nothing but a cardboard box I can knock down any time. You know that and always did know it. You hear me?