Quotes About Transition

There is no death. There are only different levels of life.

Time, in his view, was a short, sloppy path from Eve's crayon box to the Messiah's fire box.

In that nondescript period between the end of the beige fifties and the beginning of the Day-Glo sixties, I found myself drifting unfulfilled in an ocean of circumstance.

So nowadays hard-minded men with hard muscles and hard hats are relieved from their jobs

Every exit is an Entry somewhere else.

If they are all so obsessed with change they should begin by changing for dinner.

ALEXANDER (cont.):     How the world must have been changing while I was holding it still.

Anything dead coming back to life hurts.

She left me the way people leave a hotel room. A hotel room is a place to be when you are doing something else. Of itself it is of no consequence to one's major scheme. A hotel room is convenient. But its convenience is limited to the time you need it while you are in that particular town on that particular business; you hope it is comfortable, but prefer, rather, that it be anoymous. It is not, after all, where you live.

the change was adjustment without improvement.

It's gonna hurt, now," said Amy. "Anything dead coming back to life hurts.

So this is what insanity is. Not goofy behavior, but watching a sudden change in the world you used to know.

What you want to be when you grow up?" Thomas turned the knob with his left hand and opened the door. "A man," he said and left.

It was a silly age, twenty-five; too old for teenaged dreaming, too young for settling down. Every corner was a possibility and a dead end.

You have pissed your last in this house . . . and I don't make velvet roses anymore.

Like the others, they were country people, but how soon country people forget. When they fall in love with a city, it is for forever, and it is like forever.

his mild cynicism morphed into depression.

In 1983 I lost my job—or left it. One, the other, or both. In any case, I had been part-time for a while, coming into the publishing house one day a week to do the correspondence-telephoning-meetings that were part of the job; editing manuscripts at home.

It's going to hurt, now, said Amy. Anything dead coming back to life hurts.

There had been two or three girls who had helped him enter the fifties (lovely, lovely). Nothing to worry Margaret had she known. Merely life preservers in the post-fifty ocean, helping him make it to shore.

Sometimes. Sometimes it's a ambulance. Today it's a hearse.

In Ohio the seasons are theatrical.

am interested in the farewell between black and white strangers who have, or might have, shared something significant; or who represent the end of something larger than themselves, where the separation symbolizes loss or renewal, for example.

The unending problem of growing old was not how he changed, but how things did.