Quotes About Transition

Stepping onto a brand-new path is difficult, but not more difficult than remaining in a situation, which is not nurturing to the whole woman.

Smrt je preseljenje iz ku?e u ku?u. To nije nestanak ve? drugo ro?enje. Kao što prsne ljuska jajeta kad se pile potpuno razvije, tako do?e vrijeme da se rastave duša i tijelo. Smrt je nužnost u neizbježnosti prelaska u drugi svijet, u kome ?ovjek dostiže svoj puni uspon.

But there could be no new beginning, nor would one be important. We are not aware when new beginnings arrive; we only discover them later when they have already engulfed us, when everything merely continues. Then we believe that everything could have been different, but it could not have, and so we rush into springtime, so as not to think about nonexistent beginnings or unpleasant continuations.

Ne meni, ne više, ništa mi se ne bi moglo desiti ma šta da se desi, siguran sam u to. Jedan dio mog života se završio, a drugi još nije po?eo.

Autrefois tu pensais comme moi, ou presque, comme nous tous. Il n'est pas facile de se transformer, il faut rejeter tout ce que l'on a été, ce que l'on a appris et acquis, toutes ses habitudes. Mais toi tu t'es transformé, entièrement. C'est comme si tu avais réappris à marcher, à balbutier tes premières paroles, à te créer de nouvelles habitudes. La raison devait être très importante.

My original inspiration was my mom: a few years after the death of my dad, she started dating one my teachers!

High school sucks. People who say those were the best years of your life—those people are liars... Who wants the best years of their life to be in high school? High school is something everybody should be ready to lose.

I'm sorry, Heather, but everything was not just fine before I got here. You know how I know that? Because you're dead. Okay? You are dead. Dead people don't have lockers, or best friends, or boyfriends. You know why? Because they're dead.-Suze Simon

I want to tell him that everything is a mess, that I hate the in-between space, that my feet ache for the ground, that a very small, very scared part of me wants to touch the sky, and that that is maybe the worst thing of all.

Every war has it's turning points, and every person too.

I give thanks for all that has passed, for all that is passing, and for all that is yet to come.

When a creature begins to emerge from it's chrysails there is a point at which it is neither one thing nor the other, not quite grown into a new identity nor rid of the old one. It's wings are folded and sticky, it's colours hidden. Whether it will emerge in shades of emerald and lapis lazuli or the colour of mud is yet to be revealed. It is that long, still, moment of waiting that fascinates me utterly. The suspence of waiting for beauty to unfurl.

I wonder at what point a child becomes a person. Does it happen all at once, or slowly, in stages? Is there an age, a week, a moment, at which all the secrets of the universe are revealed and adulthood descends on a cloud from heaven, altering the brain forever? Will the child-me slink off one day, never to return?

Minden háború történetének van fordulópontja, és minden emberének is.

wonder at what point a child becomes a person. Does it happen all at once, or slowly, in stages? Is there an age, a week, a moment, at which all the secrets of the universe are revealed and adulthood descends on a cloud from heaven, altering the brain forever? Will the child-me slink off one day, never to return?

Che ti piaccia o no, le cose succedono e una volta che cominciano a succedere devi solo tenere duro e stare a vedere dove ti mollano quando finiscono.

I never exactly made a decision about what come next. It come over me slowly, ticking quietly at the back of my consciousness for the longest time before I even noticed it was there. But I was halfway to the decision already, living in a hut, becoming what I loved. You would think there`d be a rule to go with that thought, but I had to run way from rules.

The hours passed as they did the rest of the year, until whatever it was we were waiting for commenced.

Apparently, something can happen inside someone you love—it can just happen somehow—and like magic she thinks that she's had enough, and that the way the two of you have been for a really long time is no longer worth the effort. Does that sound familiar to anyone.

But this post-college world felt different from everything that had come before it; art was still central, but now everyone had to think about making a living too, and they did so with a kind of scorn for money except as it allowed them to live the way they wanted to live.

Your twenties were a time when you still felt young, but the groundwork was being laid in a serious way, crisscrossing beneath the surface. It was being laid even while you slept. What you did, where you lived, who you loved, all of it was like pieces of track being put down in the middle of the night by stealth workers.

It seemed that everywhere you went, people quickly adapted to the way they had to live, and called it Life.

But now the world, he thought, had taken them. He knew that this could suddenly happen. One day you just woke up, and there was somewhere that you needed to be.

Though Jonah felt transfixed inside his own childhood, no one else saw him as a child. He was already over the hump of middle age, heading rapidly toward those year that no one like to speak of. The best parts had already passed for people Jonah's age. By now you were meant to have become what you would finally be, and to gracefully and unobtrusively stay in that state for the rest of your life.