Quotes About Change

Time lets the past slip away from all but your heart.

Each minute bursts in the burning room, The great globe reels in the solar fire, Spinning the trivial and unique away. (How all things flash! How all things flare!) What am I now that I was then? May memory restore again and again The smallest color of the smallest day: Time is the school in which we learn, Time is the fire in which we burn.

What will become of you and me (This is the school in which we learn ...) Besides the photo and the memory? (... that time is the fire in which we burn.) Avid its rush, that reeling blaze! Where is my father and Eleanor? Not where are they now, dead seven years, But what they were then? No more? No more?

As women are altering their traditional role expressions, men are developing new responses to the transformed women. Old patterns are no longer acceptable, and new sets of expectations and roles are now required of them.

La décadence d'une société commence quand l'homme se demande: "Que va-t-il arriver?" au lieu de se demander: "Que puis-je faire?

Our truest opinions are not those we never change, but those to which we most often return.

The first oath sworn by two creatures of flesh and blood was at the foot of a rock that was turning into dust. They called upon the heavens (which are never the same from one instant to the next) to witness their constancy. Although everything inside them and outside of them was changing, they believed their hearts to be immune to change. Oh children! You are still children…

El primer juramento que se hicieron dos seres de carne y hueso fue al pie de una roca que se deshacía en polvo; pusieron por testigo de su constancia a un cielo que no es el mismo ni un solo instante; todo pasaba en ellos y en torno a ellos y creían sus corazones libres de vicisitudes. ¡Oh, niños, siempre niños...!

Memories assailed him of how gently she had spoken, touched, and moved; of how she'd loved him fiercely despite his mistakes and obsessions and weaknesses. And the conviction descended on him that love like theirs couldn't possibly suffer any change.

Supposedly she'd died, but here she was again–somewhat changed, but you couldn't kill her. Not when the truest part of her hadn't even been born.

It was all right to be who he was, but others would probably think it was terrible. A couple of times in the past he'd reached this absolute zero of the truth, and without fear or bitterness he realized now that somewhere inside it there was a move he could make to change his life, to become another person, but he'd never be able to guess what it was.

We parked under a strange sky with a faint image of a quarter-moon superimposed on it. There was a little woods beside us. This day had been dry out and hot, the buck pines and what-all simmering patientyl, but as we sat there smoking cigarettes it started to get very cold. The summer's over, I said.

All I'd done in better than two decades was tread forward until I reached the limit of certain assumptions, and stepped off.

But nothing I could think up, no matter how dramatic or completely horrible, ever made her repent or love me the way she had at first, before she really knew me.

It's my last year in the navy, he explained to the girl. I came across this ocean and died. They might as well bring back my bones. I'm all different.

They ran a few syringesful into me, and I felt like I'd turned from a light, Styrofoam thing into a person. I held up my hands before my eyes. The hands were as still as a sculpture's.

View change as the one constant in your life. Welcome it. Expect it. Anticipate it.

Get out of that comfortable rut.

Break the daily and weekly routine you have set. Get out of that comfortable route.

You are your own scriptwriter and the play is never finished, no matter what your age or position in life.

There are 2 primary choices in life: To accept conditions as they exist, or to accept responsibility for changing them.

Only farmers and the young, who live dependent upon change, understand what it is to know the continual flowering of life, however subtle.

When I first came here copyboys wouldn't have been allowed to eat in the canteen with journalists. A smile twitched at one corner of his mouth. I was a copyboy once, at the Lanarkshire Gazette . Can ye believe that? He left a space for her to respond, so she did. Can I believe that a man as important as you was ever a copyboy or that Lanarkshire has its own gazette?

Basically, the idea is that with everyone striving to be revolutionary, you will be the most revolutionary if you try to be ordinary.