Quotes About Transition

I seem to be a ship that is sailing out of my own life.

Time, in general, has always been a central obsession of mine - what it does to people, how it can constitute a plot all on its own. So naturally, I am interested in old age.

Something stirred inside her, some urge to plunge into the new white world and see what it had to offer. It was like she'd walked out of a dusty old wardrobe and found Narnia.

They're not going far. You wait and see. Ten years from now they'll still be hanging around with their dirty laundry, looking for a hot meal. Kids these days don't really grow up. Have you noticed, Nash? They don't worry about the future. But surprise, the future's here, isn't it? It's all so goddamned different. We grew up so fast. We had to

We begin to see that the completion of an important project has every right to be dignified by a natural grieving process. Something that required the best of you has ended. You will miss it.

In the grand and changeful panorama of the Hindu Kush, I miss the young green, the gentle wind, the stirring song of spring. But we do not dictate our dreams, and I didn't dare look back at the receding snowy peaks as I turned onto the plains.

Soon the cold would force them inside, so they clutched at lost summer.

The biological birth of the human infant and the psychological birth of the individual are not coincident in time. The former is a dramatic, observable, and well-circumscribed event; the latter a slowly unfolding intrapsychic process.

WHAT HAPPENED TO IGGY ONCE HE GOT HOME

Death cannot touch the higher consciousness of man ... it can only separate those who love each other so far as their lower vehicles are concerned; the man living on earth, blinded by matter, feels separated from those who have passed onwards, but ... there is no such thing as Death at all.

The status quo represents a mental account that we already have open, which has sunk costs associated with it, the time, money, or effort that has already been put into the way we've been doing things. Closing that account by switching to a new option can make us feel like we are wasting those resources we have already spent. We also become endowed to the status quo, taking ownership of the decisions that have kept us in that groove and anything we have created along the way.

Switching to something, like a new job or a new major or a new relationship or a new business strategy, is perceived as a new decision, and an active one. In contrast, we don't really view the choice to stick with the status quo as a decision at all.

I'm certainly not knocking these books. But whether you say "pivot" or "moving on to the next chapter" or "strategic redeployment," all of these things are, by definition, quitting. After all, stripped of its negative connotation, quitting is merely the choice to stop something that you have started.

Merely pursuing a goal can cause us to fail to notice what's right in front of us. That's certainly what happened to Stewart Butterfield when he had Slack under his nose. He couldn't fully appreciate its potential until he quit Glitch, closing that account and forcing him back into exploration mode.

When your identity is what you do, then what you do becomes hard to abandon, because it means quitting who you are.

When it comes to quitting, the most painful thing to quit is who you are.

By asking her if she would be happier in the new job more than 0% of the time, that helped her see that there was some certainty in changing jobs. Specifically, she had a better chance of getting to where she wanted to go faster if she switched. In that moment, she realized the devil that she didn't know was the better choice.

J'allais aux cours de littérature et de sociologie, au restau U, je buvais des cafés midi et soir à la Faluche, le bar réservé aux étudiants. Je n'étais plus dans le même monde. Il y avait les autres filles, avec leurs ventres vides, et moi.

Je voyais, de plus, que mon intuition avait dû être juste : c'est à la mi-mai que « quelque chose » s'est passé (de même que quelque chose a eu lieu vers la fin novembre), le détachant définitivement de moi.

Je suis réduite aux initiales pour désigner celle qui m'apparaît maintenant comme la première des femmes qui se sont relayées auprès de moi, ces passeuses dont le savoir, les gestes et les décisions efficaces, m'ont fait traverser, au mieux, cette épreuve.

Le « signe de vie » lui est inconnu. Vronski, et encore : un Vronski élevé dans le marxisme-léninisme, passé dans le Komsomol et membre du Parti. Parfaitement pragmatique.

L'escalier qui monte de la cuisine aux chambres s'est révélé trop étroit pour le passage du cercueil.

Mon mari est arrivé le soir, bronzé, gêné par un deuil qui n'était pas le sien. Plus que jamais, il a paru déplacé ici. On a dormi dans le seul lit à deux places, celui où mon père était mort.

Je dis souvent « nous » maintenant, parce que j'ai longtemps pensé de cette façon et je ne sais pas quand j'ai cessé de le faire.