Quotes About Change

There has never been an age that did not applaud the past and lament the present.

You know, when I first went into the movies Lionel Barrymore played my grandfather. Later he played my father and finally he played my husband. If he had lived I'm sure I would have played his mother. That's the way it is in Hollywood. The men get younger and the women get older.

Things start out as hopes and end up as habits.

I am a grandmother now, and that means age is creeping on, creeping on.

I was actually the one who decided to move to LA. Mom and I were driving on Sunset Boulevard during one of our trips back to see her family, and I said, 'Can we just stay?' So we did.

It's strange, to not be the youngest kind of adult anymore

For a moment all my bees have turned to honey.

The truth you find will always be replaced by someone else's.

It's that moment about two months in, when you think you've finally got a handle on the place. Suddenly it feels within your grasp. It's a delusion – you've only been there eight weeks – and it's followed by the complete despair of ever understanding anything. But at the moment the place feels entirely yours. It's the briefest, purest euphoria.

I loved that Amy Lowell poem when I first read it, how her lover was like red wine at the beginning and then became bread. But that has not happened to me. My loves remain wine to me, yet I become too quickly bread to them.

Anthropology at that time was in transition, moving from the study of men dead and gone to the study of living people, and slowly letting go of the rigid belief that the natural and inevitable culmination of every society is the Western model.

It was so awful and weird. I could see all the things I had loved about him, I could see them, but I didn't love them anymore.

I'll miss them when they take flight. I won't be there. Their fast excited chatter, their wings finally spread wide, their feet tucking in behind them. Wheels up. I'll miss it. I'll be in class or at my desk or in bed when they cut across the sky.

She claimed that conformity created maladjustment and tradition could turn psychopathic.

But the world is deaf. The world—and really I mean the West—has no interest in change or self-improvement

What's the point of anyone's search for answers? The truth you find will always be replaced by someone else's. Someday even Darwin will look like a quaint Ptolemy who saw what he could see but no more.

It's not here anymore," he said. "What?" "What happened." "Then where is it?" "It's gone. It's over. You can't find it, stroke it, coo over it. Time has stolen it away like it fucking steals everything. In rare instances, like yours, that can be a good thing.

I search for in my work, in these far-flung places, to find a group of people who give each other the room to BE in whatever way they need to be. And maybe I will never find it all in one culture, but maybe I can find parts of it in several cultures, maybe I can piece it together like a mosaic and reveal it to the world. Bu the world is deaf. The world--and I really mean the West--has no interest in change or self improvement...

It's strange, to not be the youngest kind of adult anymore. I'm thirty-one now, and my mother is dead. (4)

loved that Amy Lowell poem when I first read it, how her lover was like red wine at the beginning and then became bread.

Everything we ever said to each other was in languages I'm starting to forget.

It's strange, to not be the youngest kind of adult anymore. I'm thirty-one now, and my mother is dead.

We're walking close and bump against each other. Another person might have just taken his hand and said, Are you ever going to kiss me? But I'm not that person. It always takes me by surprise when someone wants to kiss me, even if they've met me at midnight with wine and a blanket. People change their mind. Between the idea and the reality falls the Shadow.

What's the point of anyone's search for answers? The truth you find will always be replaced by someone else's.