Quotes About Change

My face looked like a picture of someone else. I turned this way and that. No, more like a picture of a rock after some vandal has ripped off its decades-old layer of moss and soil, and the bare stone is revealed.

To hear you talk is like hearing him talk when he first become king.

The world felt rude and fragile and new as though she had lately risen from her sickbed.

Wyrd never flowed along expected paths.

The metal rippled and flowed where it was not rusted.

The world turned, ripened, grew hotter and heavier.

Orange is just change, Sara. Not all good, not all bad. Just different.

The Christ and his priests were different. They were a storm that would change everything. They read. They would sweep the beach clean. But not of her. That was not her wyrd.

A new Tammy, the tentative beginnings of a new life. But there were still a few threads from the old that needed to be dealt with.

The lake sometimes has a mind of its own; there's no telling how it might treat you.

It had to happen. It should happen soon.

She held out her hands and we hugged. I remembered when she used to engulf me. Now I was an inch or two taller, though her bone and muscle still felt like granite.

Hild held Begu's hand, because Begu hadn't been walking this path for years and at night the world was different. Smells, sounds, shapes loomed from the shadow and were gone, moonlight turnd the shadows sharp and sleep. It was a bleached world of bone and stone and tin where magic walked.

Old ways are not always the best ways.

I ached for them. Most of them would not be able to cling to their bubble world; one day someone, something would thrust it. I wished it could be different.

You've made more of a life here in three weeks than you've done in five years in Atlanta. I only wonder that you've managed to hide from the obvious for so long. This place is ideal for a Norwegian who isn't really Norwegian anymore. It positively reeks of Scandanavia, all clean and shiny and Americanized full of rules that people obey with a smile when it pleases them and break with a smile when it doesn't. Ideal for you.

Autumn blew, leaves fell, flames flickered, and song turned to war.

Her mother, changing sides so gradually, so carefully that even Hild hadn't noticed.

Autumn, like grief, changes everything.

She looked at her big hand, red now. Men's blood. She had killed a man; more than one man. The world looked no different, but she felt different in it, as though it had tilted on its axis and the line of stars had changed.

They reckon you feel love in your heart but that's bollocks. True love, the type what strikes you down and makes you change for ever, you feel that kind of love in every fucking organ inside you.

The lives and deaths of characters in stories and poems, however tragic, help us to learn about the world and - if we are brave enough - to change it.

What do I want to do with drawing? I want to draw Wonder Woman every day. That was the moment. It changed everything.

Swimming against the current is not idiotic if the waters are racing toward a waterfall.