Quotes About Transition

On that fateful night they'd had sex, it seemed to her that she'd fallen asleep one person and woken up another. She couldn't remember the hows and whys of who she used to be. It was bewildering. Like hypnosis or a magic spell or a dream that had broken on her waking.

but my soul was hardly situated before I moved along.

My dad was giving me a kind of pep talk and my mom had a smile on her face, but she just looked like she wanted to cry. She's looking at this little girl holding a stuffed animal on her way to deliver a baby. I can't even begin to imagine.

She took the first tentative, terrifying, exhilarating steps into her future.

She understood that grief is not neat and orderly; it does not follow any rules. Time does not heal it. Rather, time insists on passing, and as it does, grief changes but does not go away. Sometimes she could actually visualize

Ready for New York and whatever it held for me.

At least for now.

Now my parents are divorced and I live in Connecticut with my mom and brother, but my dad still lives in California. All in all, I've flown back and forth across the country eleven times.

Part of me had hoped my BSC friends had planned this whole thing as a huge April Fool's joke seven months early. We'd all have a big laugh and go back to the way we were, loyal and full of group spirit. But here's the other side: even though my mind was a mess, my body felt the strangest sense of calmness, as if I'd just taken a swim on a Hawaiian beach. I felt free. Free and peaceful.

The Baby-sitters Club was (almost) back to normal.

It's over. I can't believe it. Back to boring old life.

Chapter Fifteen

Don't you see? The BITs aren't working out, either. They're just not ready, which isn't fair to us or our clients. And we're starting to resent the BITs, which isn't fair to them. You have to look at the whole picture. Firing them is the best decision for everybody. Just like your moving to California was the best decision. I mean, sure Jeff will be disappointed when you tell him.

The doors leading out of scriptural literalism do not open from the inside. The

Then I said to myself, "Well, I'm getting pretty old, and we could probably work together. I'll let him be chairman and CEO, and I'll just enjoy myself, step back a little, and, of course, continue to visit stores." So I became chairman of the Executive Committee. Ron became chairman and CEO of the company. Ferold became president.

So finally I called him in one Saturday in June of 1976, thirty months after I had given up the chairman's job, and just said simply, "Well, Ron, I thought I was ready to step out, but I see that really I wasn't. I've been so involved that in a way it has put you under a real handicap." I told him I wanted to come back in as chairman and CEO, and have him assume another job—vice chairman and chief financial officer, I believe.

Death is the period at the end of a sentence. Someone gone, but still out there, is an ellipsis...or a question to be answered.

The moment I drove away in September I felt like someone was following our car with an eraser, rubbing out my old life.

Is this what all the years of schooling were for? To prepare me for this Sense of being stuck in the middle? What was the point? No one said I was going to be this sad. No one said I would still be crying.

A few months ago, leaving for college seemed glamourous, but now it's hard to believe that this little dorm room, with its scratchy sheets and a lock that sticks, is home. It's hard to accept that this is my new life, that these are my new friends. I am one in many here. There are dozens here as good as me, even more who are smarter, funnier. And it scares me because before I stuck out and now I blend in.

I am grown in so many ways, but in front of my parents I am still a child. I am having a hard time throwing off the skin that I pick and peel. I am the only one who can do it, but I can't seem to let myself.

Maybe too many new things are happening. Maybe this is just me, and this is how my whole life will be.

Autumn is the mellower season, and what we lose in flowers we more than gain in fruits.

We never do anything consciously for the last time without sadness of heart.