Quotes About Transition

I still remember the little boy who shouted with astonished joy when I told him I was leaving my job at EMF. Are you going to be a Real Mummy now? he asked. Had I not been a real mummy to him while I worked?

Mine was the Benjamin Button of careers; age and status had both gone backward. It definitely took some getting used to.

It is always easier to talk about change than to make it.

The world of today is as different from the world in which i was born as that world was from julius ceasar's . I was born in the middle of human history , to date roughly . Almost as much as happened since i was born as happened before.

It was a place you could make into a home if your home hadn't worked out.

For the moment she was caught between the two worlds, neither one thing nor another. She would be sorry to let the former depart and yet she was longing for the latter to arrive: a new name and with it a new world and with it a new life.

PRESENT, n. That part of eternity dividing the domain of disappointment from the realm of hope.

The man was Halpin Frayser.  He lived in St. Helena, but where he lives now is uncertain, for he is dead. 

From childhood to youth is eternity, from youth to manhood, a season. Age comes in a night and is incredible.

Let the red dawn surmise What we shall do, When this blue starlight dies And all is through.

Christmas Day has come and gone, the New Year lies ahead. Strange things happen Between the Years, in the days outside of time. Minutes go wild, hours vanish. Idleness becomes a clever thief, stealing the names of the days of the week, muting the steady tick of watches and clocks. These are the hours when angels, ghosts, demons and meddlers ride howling wind and flickering candlelight, keen to stir unguarded hearts and restless minds.

If there ever was a place where one could start again, it was Manhattan. Move a block, and your enemies become your friends. Move ten blocks and you might never see anyone you knew again.

Homesickness was an adjustment disorder, that was the long and short of it.

Death does not bow to each person who passes her, does not sweep out her arm respectfully to show the way, speaks no profound words, unlocks no bolts. The key upon her chest is never needed, for the Last Door stands always open. She herds the dead through impatiently, heedless of rank or fame or quality. She has an ever-lengthening queue to get through. A blind procession, inexhaustible.

Nothing is ever fixed. From the moment it is born, from the moment it is built, everything is always dying, decaying, drifting into chaos.

The world is all change, my friend. We all would like to go back, but the past is done. We must look forwards. We must change ourselves, however painful it may be, or be left behind.

But maybe that's what happens once the fighting stops, to a man who knows nothing but fighting. He fights himself.

My congratulations on leaving the legal profession and becoming a respectable member of the community.

And now the King is dead. Who knows who will replace him? Voting for a monarch! Have you ever heard of such a thing?

If men can change like that.' And Monza snapped her fingers in his face. 'That's the only way they do change, ain't it?' His one eye stayed on her. 'If things change enough around 'em? Men are brittle, I reckon. They don't bend into new shapes. They get broken into them. Crushed into them.

The world is bound to look a darker place as you slide into the grave.

Those were the times. Those were still the times, and maybe always would be.

From the moment it is born, from the moment it is built, everything is always dying, decaying, drifting into chaos.

Rulf laid a single arrow beside the body, and Koll reckoned he was struggling to keep back tears. 'From nothing, to nothing,' he croaked out. Father Yarvi laid his withered hand on the old helmsman's arm. 'But what a journey in between.