Quotes About Transition

Old friendships could atrophy. People changed. What was once appreciated between two people became uncomfortable.

At some point the living must let go of the dead.

What was once so close and important eventually became so strange and different.

We must be willing to get rid of the life we've planned, so as to have the life that is waiting for us. ~ Joseph Campbell

There it was . . . a missing day that lay between the thirty-first of December 1999, and the first of January 2000.

Whatever you can point to – a physical thing, a person, a thought, an emotion – … [a]ll of them change. Even memory shows constant flux and change.

We are like music. … Music exists … in constant flux and flow. Once the movement stops, the music is no more.

Good times come and go. And bad times do the same.

For a while, Mirabelle believes there will be a moment when he will cave in and let himself love her, but eventually she lets the idea go. She hits bottom. She dwells in the muck for several months, not depressed exactly, but involved in a mourning that at first she thinks is for Ray but soon realizes is for the loss of her old self.

She didn't even finish her last sentence; it just trailed off. I think the subject had changed in her head while her mouth had continued on the old topic, not realizing it was out of supplies.

Mirabelle is not sparkling tonight, because she works only in gears, and tonight she is in the wrong gear. Third gear is her scholarly, perspicacious, witty self; second gear is her happy, giddy, childish self; and first gear is her complaining, helpless, unmotivated self. Tonight she is somewhere midshift, between helpless and childish.

The dawn breaks everything, including the mood from the night before.

I guessed that one day the restrictions I imposed on myself would end. But first, it seemed that my range of possible activities would have to iris down to zero before I could turn myself around. Then, when I was static and immobile, I could weigh and measure every exterior force and, slowly and incrementally, once again allow the outside in. And that would be my life.

their way to becoming

Guns were out and butter was in, enough to grease the welfare skids and

people who believed the old theory thought the new theory was just as ridiculous then as you think the old theory is now.

Sometimes for better, sometimes for worse, nothing lasts forever.

When I think of getting married, I worry that my life will be over. I don't want to lose my lifestyle, which in my case often turns out to be going home, watching television alone, and reheating an old slice of pizza.

Is it a good idea to pass along a family business to the next generation? (Sure, if your goal is to kill off the business—for the data show it's generally better to bring in an outside manager.

We're all going forwards and we're never coming back.

Almost sixteen weeks after I'd woken up on the bedroom floor, the lightbulb box arrived.

What we are seeing now is arguably the largest mass migration in human history, and the first to be triggered by a home appliance.

The move from self-authoring to self-transforming for example? Fewer than 5 percent of us ever make that jump.

Sometimes I feel that I am slowly erasing muself, in order for someone else to appear, the one I long for, who will not resemble me.