Quotes About Transition

True life is lived when tiny changes occur.

Death is finished, he said to himself. It is no more!

We imagine that when we are thrown out of our usual ruts all is lost, but it is only then that what is new and good begins. While there is life there is happiness. There is much, much before us.

And where love ends, hate begins

I'm getting old, that's the thing! What's in me now won't be there anymore.

your life." "You mean my life without Kimi? Or you mean my life as a

Anyway, I guess I should have seen it coming. It's like every time things start to look okay in my crazy life, something always comes along to change it. It's like it just falls out of

A man lives till he dies, and there is no age in between.

Your whole life has been a long road leading directly to this moment

He realized that it wouldn't be much longer before the trees picked themselves up and migrated to the warmer south, leaving their dead, leafless brothers behind.

What'd you need? Desuetude. Reading again, are we? Could be dangerous. It means to become unaccustomed to. As in something gets discontinued, falls into disuse. Thanks, man. That it? Yeah, but we should grab a drink sometime.

The summer has ended. The garden withers. The mornings become chill. I am thirty, I am thirty-four–the years turn dry as leaves.

There was a time, usually late in August, when summer struck the trees with dazzling power and they were rich with leaves but then became, suddenly one day, strangely still, as if in expectation and at that moment aware. They knew. Everything knew, the beetles, the frogs, the crows solemnly walking across the lawn. The sun was at its zenith and embraced the world, but it was ending, all that one loved was at risk.

He no longer lives in years; he is down to seasons. Finally it will become single nights, each one perilous as a lunar journey. He

Events need their invitation, dissolutions their start.

Suddenly I am crushed by the simplicity of it all: he is leaving.

It was all leaving her in slow, imperceptible movements, like the tide when one's back is turned: everyone, everything she had known. So all of grief and happiness, far from being buried with one, vanished beforehand except for scattered pieces. She lived among forgotten episodes, unknown faces bereft of names, closed off from the very world she had created; that was how it came to be. But I must show nothing of that, she thought. Her children---she must not reveal it to them.

Er komt een tijd dat je alleen bent, schreef Céline lang voordat het hem echt overkwam, als je aan het eind bent gekomen van alles wat je overkomen kan. Het is het einde van de wereld, zelfs verdriet, je eigen verdriet, geeft geen antwoord meer en je moet op je schreden terugkeren, je weer onder de mensen begeven, het maakt niet uit wie.

There's a time in life when everything becomes ex—ex-athlete, ex-president, expatriate, x-ray.

The courage to live when the best days were past.

Things have dropped from me. I have outlived certain desires; I have lost friends, some by death... others through sheer inability to cross the street.

Progress was all right. Only it went on too long.

The shift from hunting-gathering to agriculture led to one very important development -- it laid the building blocks for civilization as we know it.

He Is Not Dead I cannot say, and I will not say That he is dead. He is just away. With a cheery smile, and a wave of the hand, He has wandered into an unknown land And left us dreaming how very fair It needs must be, since he lingers there. And you—oh you, who the wildest yearn For an old-time step, and the glad return, Think of him faring on, as dear In the love of There as the love of Here. Think of him still as the same. I say, He is not dead—he is just away.