Quotes About Transition

Divorce is the future tense of marriage.

It's possible that the college prizes misled me to believe that I could publish a novel immediately after quitting the law. However, the more I studied fiction, the more I realized that writing novels required rigorous discipline and mastery, no different than the study of engineering or classical sculpture. I wanted to get formal training.

will one day have a fine figure, but for now,

It was as if a warm room had gotten cooler, but it was still the same room.

She would have uprooted herself to have seen the world with him, and now she was seeing it without him.

Until I realized: this long expanse of free time to rekindle friendships is not real. We will never come home to each other again and we will never again have each other's undivided attention. That version of our friendship is over forever. And when I remember this, and it usually happens in those awful, quiet evening hours on Sunday nights, after dinner but before bed, I just lie on my sofa and cry for half an hour.

Albums that remind me of my childhood happiness make me incredibly sad now.

We will never come home to each other again and we will never again have each other's undivided attention. That version of our friendship is over forever.

It's traumatizing to think that a best friend could become just a friend. That's because there is virtually no difference between an acquaintance and a friend. But the gulf between a friend and a best friend is enormous and profound.

It's traumatizing to think that a best friend could become just a friend. That's because there's virtually no difference between an acquaintance and a friend. But the gulf between a friend and a best friend is enormous and profound.

It's traumatizing to think that a best friend could become just a friend. That's because there is virtually no difference between an acquaintance and a friend. But the gulf between a friend and a best friend is enormous and profound. And

So You've Just Finished Chelsea Handler's Book, Now What?

Death is not an ending. It is a transformation. Death is the threshold of this life. Beyond it is something else, some mystery.

Death is not an ending. It is a transformation.

Life is but one dream flowing into another.

Life's pulse is gauged in the hollows, the intervals between events.

The drama of life begins with a wail and ends with a sigh.

Tinc ancorades a no sé quin port les barques del retorn, i m'avindria potser a desarborar-ne tots els pals a canvi de no res, perquè ara ja no em sedueix intensament cap ruta i em fa falta ben poc per sobreviure.

Ara faig d'angle estèril de la llum. Si em criden, tanmateix, diré que encara no estic a punt, que tinc certes foteses per endegar, mig de nit, mig de dia, que de moment, sisplau, amb mi no hi comptin, que encara em queda molt passat per viure.

The world was waking up.

The bad event gave you the strength you needed in your foundation to make possible the next wonderful thing in your life.

It was a small thing, but it was a thing, and things have a way of either dying or growing, and it wasn't dying.

What was the lifespan of these improbable loves? An hour. A week. A few months at best. The end was a natural thing, like the seasons, like getting older, fruit turning. That was the saddest part—there was no one to blame and no way to reverse

The boy was growing bored and this was a form of growing up.