Quotes About Transition

I first met Dean not long after my wife and I split up. I had just gotten over a serious illness that I won't bother to talk about, except it had something to do with the miserably weary split-up and my feeling that everything was dead.

It's good-bye. But we lean forward to the next crazy venture beneath the skies.

She was eighteen and most lovely, and lost.

I walked around the sad honkytonks of Curtis Street; young kids in jeans and red shirts; peanut shells, movie marquees, shooting parlours. Beyond the glittering street was darkness, and beyond the darkness the West. I had to go.

What is that feeling when you're driving away from people and they recede on the plain till you see their specks dispersing? —it's the too-huge world vaulting us, and it's good-by. But we lean forward to the next crazy venture beneath the skies. We

I suddenly realized it was fall and that I was going back to New York.

Ä°nsanlardan uzakla??rken arkana bak?p da onlar? yavaÅŸ yavaÅŸ gözden kaybolan birer leke olarak gördüÄŸünde kap?ld???n o duygu nedir? Fazlas?yla büyük olan dünyan?n bizi içine yuvarlamas?d?r, vedad?r bu. Ne ki, gökyüzünün alt?nda bizi bir bekleyen bir sonraki ç?lg?n serüvene doÄŸru uzan?r?z yine.

Que sensação é essa, quando você está se afastando das pessoas e elas retrocedem na planície até você ver o espectro delas se dissolvendo? – é o vasto mundo nos engolindo, e é o adeus.

I wasn't scared; I was just somebody else, some stranger, and my whole life was a haunted life, the life of a ghost. I was halfway across America, at the dividing line between the East of my youth and the West of my future, and maybe that's why it happened right there and then, that strange red afternoon.

Things come but to go, all things made have to be unmade, and they'll have to be unmade simply because they were made!

I'd come into Denver like a bum; now I was all racked up sharp in a suit, with a beautiful well-dressed blonde on my arm, bowing to dignitaries and chatting in the lobby under chandeliers.

Isn't it true that you start your life a sweet child believing in everything under your father's roof? Then comes the day of the Laodiceans, when you know you are wretched and miserable and poor and blind and naked, and with the visage of a gruesome grieving ghost you go shuddering through nightmare life. I stumbled haggardly out of the station; I had no more control.

She was eighteen and most lovely, and lost. Chapter 11

Now, Sal, we're leaving everything behind us and entering a new and unknown phase of things. All the years and troubles and kicks—and now this! so that we can safely think of nothing else and just go on ahead with our faces stuck out like this, you see, and understand the world as, really and genuinely speaking, other Americans haven't done before us—they were here, weren't they? The Mexican war. Cutting across here with cannon.

Newton, Iowa, it was, where I'd taken that dawn walk in 1947. In the afternoon we crossed drowsy old Davenport again and the low-lying Mississippi in her sawdust bed; then Rock Island, a few minutes of traffic, the sun reddening, and sudden sights of lovely little tributary rivers flowing softly among the magic trees and greeneries of mid-American Illinois. It was beginning to look like the soft sweet East again; the great dry West was accomplished and done.

the reason being the enormous loneliness that differs just a shade and cut hair as you move across the Mississippi.

I was going home in October. Everybody goes home in October.

They came to be starlets; they ended up in Drive-Ins.

I was halfway across America, at the dividing line between the East of my youth and the West of my future, and maybe that's why it happened right there and then, that strange red afternoon.

But I figure passion's like the wind in the trees out there. Blows hard for a while and feels strong and clean while it's blowing and maybe it even blows so long and hard that you start living with it. It feels like the wind's a part of you, like it's essential, if you know what I mean, something you can hardly imagine life without. But it's got to pass. So you can get on with things without all the confusion of that wind in your hair.

Everything that has a beginning has an ending. Make your peace with that and all will be well.

But it did not all happen in a day, this giving over of himself, body and soul, to the man-animals. He could not immediately forego his wild heritage and his memories of the Wild. There were days when he crept to the edge of the forest and stood and listened to something calling him far and away.

When a man journeys into a far country, he must be prepared to forget many of the things he has learned, and to acquire such customs as are inherent with existence in the new land; he must abandon the old ideals and the old gods, and oftentimes he must reverse the very codes by which his conduct has hitherto been shaped.

Again from its brumal sleep