Quotes About Growth

People could not be made to change. It had taken her a long time to learn that. People had to want to change themselves.

In the wild waste, a girl, growing.

One afternoon when the winter was done and the world had begun to turn towards the light, with green shoots thrusting through the dark earth, the girl roamed the high fell in the steeper, northern part of the valley.

She looked, left and right. She couldn't see as much as she'd like; the unfamiliar veil got in the way. No doubt she'd learn to manage that, how to use it to her advantage, as her mother did.

Anger isn't a bad thing. It's just a feeling. Learn it. Understand it.

She was beginning to see patterns, learning how to think.

Beside her, Edwin stirred. Rædwald the overking was dead and under the dirt. Now Edwin was overking. Hild could feel him swelling like bread.

And when she, too, goes back to her mother, cheeks blooming fresh with wild roaming, her mother weeps and begs her to stay close, stay safe-for the girl is hers, her gift, her treasure, her payment, all she has-but the girl feels her growing strength; she must run, she must climb, she must test her power.

Play with it. Play with the scary thing. But play hard, play clearly, and play a lot.

I missed you showing me things, making them magic. So I decided to find them myself. Like this.

To learning experiences, even though they suck.

Their friendship grew back, like tree bark growing over a wound. But they did not fight anyone.

The world turned, ripened, grew hotter and heavier.

Sometimes I used my fingers, digging down into the rich dirt, feeling it push under my nails. No doubt I'd regret it later, but it was good to feel so much life under my hands.

She had no idea why it was so much harder for her to folk in Anglisc to anyone but Begu, it just was, though these last weeks she was learning how to let the words come. It helped if there was no weightiness behind them, no import; if they were only words with no life or death hanging in the balance.

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.

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.

After some months on the road she was taller still, her muscles hard but her smile more ready.

Her scent-earthy and light, like the smell of crisp baby carrots when you first pull them from the ground-mixed with that of sawdust and leaf mold.

She swallowed, and her heart filled with light she had known as a child.

Man matures when he stops believing that politics solves his problems.

What is called progress are preparations for a catastrophe.

Population growth disquiets the demographer only when he fears that it will impede economic progress or make it harder to feed the masses. But that man needs solitude, that human proliferation produces cruel societies, that distance is required between men so that the spirit might breathe, does not interest him. The quality of man does not matter to him.

Quienes gimen sobre la estrechez del medio en que viven pretenden que los acontecimientos, los vecinos, los paisajes, les den la sensibilidad y la inteligencia que la naturaleza les negó.