Quotes About Change

theorems, miscellaneous At some point in your life, this statement will be true: Tomorrow you will lose everything forever.

right at that moment, the first times start turning into last times, as in, last first day of school, last time he crawls into bed with us, last time you'll all sleep together like this, the three of you. There are a few years when you make almost all of your important memories. And then you spend the next few decades reliving them.

KUNG FU KID I'm sorry, Ma. I'm really sorry. MA (waving you off) I don't care about that. Just promise me something, okay? KUNG FU KID Okay. MA Don't grow up to be Kung Fu Guy. KUNG FU KID Okay, okay, I promise. (then) Wait, what? MA You heard me. Don't be Kung Fu Guy. KUNG FU KID Oh. Then what should I be? MA Be more.

He'd aged out of his role and into the next one, his life force depleting with every exertion. Wisdom and power leaking from him with each passing day and night. He'd played his role for so long he'd lost himself in it, before some separation that happened gradually over decades and then you waking one day to feel it, some distance that had crept in overnight. Some formal space you could no longer cross.

What was I thinking? Because, if I'm being honest, I'm not sure I would even know what I do with myself. Even if you could skip to the end of it all, what would I do the next day with my life that would be so different from all the days that came before? What miraculous change would I make, after getting out of this rut, what new kind of person would I choose to be that next day? And the next? And how about the day after, and all of the days after that?

The dates fall away from the days, like glass punched out of window frames, or ice cubes out of a tray into a sink, identical, dateless, nameless durational blobs, melting into an undifferentiated puddle.

The individual events of your life will be transmuted into another substance called memory and in the mechanism something will be lost and you will never be able to reverse it, you will never again have the original moment back in its uncategorized, preprocessed state. It will force you to move on and you will not have a choice in the matter.

know, Will. I know. I wish it didn't have to be like this, but you know how it is. You're an Asian Man. Your story was great, while it lasted, but now it's done. I hope our paths cross again. Maybe somewhere else.

People rent time machines. They think they can change the past. Then they get there and find out causality doesn't work the way they thought it did. They get stuck, stuck in places they didn't mean to go, in places they did mean to go, in places they shouldn't have tried to go. They get into trouble. Logical, metaphysical, etc.

it's true: time does heal. It will do so whether you like it or not, and there's nothing anyone can do about it. If you're not careful, time will take away everything that ever hurt you, everything you have ever lost, and replace it with knowledge. Time is a machine: it will convert your pain into experience.

Why are we talking like this? "Sorry," you say. "Force of habit." "I don't want to practice dating, Will. I want to actually date.

It's the way things are. You do the cop show. You get your little check. You wonder: Can you change it? Can you be the one who actually breaks through?

The reality being that they'd lost the plot somewhere along the way, their once great romance spun into a period piece, into an immigrant family story, and then into a story about two people trying to get by. And it was just that: getting by. Barely, and no more. Because they'd also, in the way old people often do, slipped gently into poverty. Also without anyone noticing.

Why can't I just give up now?" I ask TAMMY. "I don't think it works that way," she says, but I don't see why it shouldn't. Today should be the first day of the part of my life where I can stop caring. Right?

There are people whose watch stops at a certain hour and who remain permanently at that age.

The deterioration of every government begins with the decay of the principles on which it was founded.

make a simple plan, inform everyone involved with it, don't change it, and kick it in the ass.

Women - why aren't you running the world yet? Frankly I'm disappointed in you. Men are still far too dominant for their own good, and consequently we've made a testosterone-sodden pig's ear of just about everything: politics, the economy, religion, the environment ... you name it, it's in a gigantic man-wrought mess.

Don't vajazzle our memories

If a Victorian gentleman arrived in present-day London, he'd think we'd been invaded by glowing rectangles.

Nothing is permanent in this wicked world, not even our troubles (Worries)

The hate of men will pass, and dictators die, and the power they took from the people will return to the people. And so long as men die, liberty will never perish.

Um homem não pode regressar. Ele pensa que sim, mas outras coisas se passaram na sua vida. Tem novas ideias, novos amigos e novas ligações. Não pertence ao seu passado, excepto pelo facto de que o passado terá deixado, talvez, marcas nele.

I remember when one dressed the part for the West End, and strolled with yellow gloves and a walking-stick. But that world has gone, and another takes its place, eyes see differently, emotions react to other themes. Men weep at jazz, and violence has become sexual. Time marches on.