Quotes About Transition

Les premiers instants du sommeil sont l'image de la mort...

un engourdissement nébuleux saisit notre pensée, et nous ne pouvons déterminer l'instant précis où le moi, sous une autre forme, continue l'œuvre de l'existence.

Take a deep breath, open your eyes, and close the book.

It was true that the elders found everything changing all about them with a precipitation which was leaving them stripped of authority. The girls (kids they remembered no bigger than that) suddenly flowered and married. The lads returned from their military service with blasé airs and a new vocabulary. A horde of new brats was born, making their disprespectful uproar in Clochemerle.

A person doesn't die when he should but when he can.

We are in the interstices. In the intervals. We are that which moves between the spaces. Which conjures up the spaces.

Now what mattered to me no longer matters.

The past is falling to pieces like the beggar with his clown-clothes . . .

Already she was climbing the wind, already was not and didn't know it . . .

It's amazing, it doesn't feel like it has been 10 years since retirement.

It was the beginning of June; summer was arising out of spring, like an aloe from a field of grass.

Tout à coup, Florentine entra dans la réalité. La vague d'ivresses l'abandonnait. Elle la rejetait durement.

It isn't a sadness, but a joy, that we don't do the same things for the length of our lives.

Our moment had passed somehow. I was different. He was, too. Without our "madness" to unite us, there wasn't anything much there. Or maybe too much had happened in too short a time. It's like when you take a trip with someone you don't know very well. Sometimes you can get very close very quickly, but then after the trip is over, you realise all that was a false sort of closeness. An intimacy based on the trip more than the travellers, if that makes any sense.

Each period had required me to be a slightly different person, and that was exhausting. I wondered if school had always felt this way and whether it was like this for everone.

It is the same world, she thought, but I am different. Or is it a different world, but I am the same?

Evey day, there is less of me. Today I am thoughts without words. Tomorrow I will be a body without thoughts. And so it goes.

For the record, everything new is not worse than everything old.

What was a gate anyway? A doorway, she thought. A portal. The possibility of a different world. The possibility that you might walk through the door and reinvent yourself as something better than you had been before.

To know that when one phase of a relationship ends it can transform into something else. It is to acknowledge that love is both a constant and a variable at the same time.

It isn't a sadness, but a joy, that we don't do the same things for the length of our lives.

You forget all of them. Even the ones you said you loved, and even the ones you actually did. They're the last to go. And then once you've forgotten enough, you love someone else.

On Earth, Liz was constantly occupied with studying and finding a college and a career and all those other things that the adults in her life deemed terribly important. Since she had died, everything she was doing on Earth had seemed entirely meaningless. From Liz's point of view, the question of what her life would be was now definitively answered. The story of her life is short and pointless: There once was a girl who got hit by a car and died. The end.

Your cousin Albert told me that, in business, they call this a pivot. But life is filled with them, too. The most successful people are also the most able to change their mindsets.