Quotes About Transition

El día que empezamos a preocuparnos por el futuro es el día que dejamos atrás nuestra infancia

My granda always told me that fall's the time to root up something you dont want coming back to trouble you. Autumn...Autumn's the time. In autumn, everything is tired and ready to die.

Der Tag, an dem wir beginnen, uns Gedanken über die Zukunft zu machen, ist der Tag, an dem wir unsere Kindheit hinter und lassen.

The day we fret about the future is the day we leave our chilhood behind.

constantly before his eyes now was a river flowing from him; and it was as if he himself and his house and the wealth he had accumulated over many decades were flowing away like the river, while he was too old and too weak to oppose the powerful current.

going to be a hard place to leave, but Ballymena was no

It's great being dead.

Yesterday was the last day of the rest of my life' pin

Hope comes as a companion; she slips her arm around your shoulder and offers to help you stumble toward change

input flood could help them add something new to their interlanguage, but did not lead them to get rid of an error based on their first language.

Every exit is an entrance to someplace else.

We went our separate ways, but within walking distance of one another.

I knew one day I would stop and he would keep on going, but until then nothing could tear us apart.

We promised that we'd never leave one another again, until we both knew we were ready to stand on our own. And this vow, through everything we were yet to go through, we kept.

Shard by shard we are released from the tyranny of so-called time. A curtain of purple wisteria partially conceals the entrance to a familiar garden... In a wink, a lifetime, we pass through the infinite movements of a silent overture.

Some things melt before they become memories.

Sometimes I just wanted to raise my hands and stop. But stop what? Maybe just growing up.

The only thing you can count on is change.

It was unsettling to imagine it alone on the bench without a film, unable to record its own passage into the hands of a stranger.

Sometimes I wanted to raise my hands and stop. But stop what? Maybe just growing up.

said good-bye to my corner. —What will happen to the tables and chairs? I asked.

I thought of Thomas Paine's words: these are the times that try men's souls. Outside, the rain ceased but high winds remained. And what was truth remained the truth. It was the last day of the year of the monkey and the golden cockerel was crowing, for the insufferable yellow-haired confidence man had been sworn in, with a Bible no less, and Moses and Jesus and Buddha and Mohamed seemed somewhere else entirely.

The old world and the emerging one served up in the brick and mortar of the artisan and the architects.

I felt a fleeting pang in my heart for I knew that innocent phase of our life had passed.