Quotes About Transformation

Toprak ebedi bir güç mmembas?yd?, çünkü o gerçek Anam?zd?, bizi besler ve ayr?ca ba?r?nda atalar?m?z? saklard?. Tabiatta dönü?üm onda gerçekle?irdi.

Para creer en la resurrección de la carne, tal vez sea necesario haber vencido a la carne. El castigo de aquellos que han abusado de ella es no haber podido ni siquiera imaginar su resurrección.

Pero el horror de la vejez es que ésta es el total de una vida, un total en el que no sabríamos cambiar una cifra. He tardado sesenta años en convertirme en este anciano muerto de odio. Soy lo que soy; sería necesario convertirme en otro... ¡Oh, Dios, Dios, si Tú existieras...!

François Furstenberg

In the new era of your life, Bring love for hate, peace for strife

Sometimes fear made you angry. Perhaps after years anger cooled, like a sword taken from a forge. Perhaps in the end you were left with something very cold and very sharp.

The world is like a broken wrist that healed the wrong way, and will never be the same again.

If someone throws aside their pride and begs with all their heart, and if they do so in vain, then they are never quite the same person afterwards. Something in them dies, and something else comes to life.

I swam across the torrent of my madness, and pulled myself upon the shore of a new and better sanity.

In an instant he saw the delusion of his five hundred years. He was not looking into a box; he was looking out of one. All these centuries his mind, his body, his world had been a box of horrors. He took one last breath, then pushed open the lid of his prison and escaped.

This was the hardest part. It was easier to be the witch, the harpy. Being human was dangerous.

She was not undamaged, however, and she knew it. No food or drink had passed her lips, but she had drunk deep of the Truth, and now it could not be flushed out of her system with bitter cordials, or washed from her skin, or picked out of her hair.

I think that when Lady Tamarind looks at you, she feels as the cathedral might if it suddenly remembered that once it had been a grim little church facing down musket fire and a cruel sea wind.

here in the drawing room, each lady quietly relaxed and became more real, expanding into the space left by the men. Without visibly changing, they unfolded, like flowers, or knives.

If someone throws aside their pride and begs with all their heart, and if they do so in vain, then they are never quite the same person afterwards. Something in them dies, and something else comes to life. Afterwards, it was as if some understanding of the world had sunk into Makepeace's soul like winter dew. She knew that she would never feel safe or loved as she had before. And she knew that she would never, ever beg that way again.

I'm going to get out. Her spirits lurched unsteadily into the air like a wounded pigeon. I'm going to get out of this wormpit of a town. And I will never, never come back here again.

Mandelion spread itself like a butterfly of brick and slate.

And below them, Toll-by-Night set about folding itself away, like a stilt-legged monster into a closet. Its inhabitants crept back into the unwanted places, the crannies and cellars and forgotten attics, and locked themselves in. A bugle blew. A silver jingling swept through the town, sealing away all bad reputations and bitter-tasting names. Another bugle sounded. And day swept in like a landlord, not knowing that it was only a guest in night's town.

Well, what do you think would happen to your face if you found out something you couldn't forget? Something terrible that changed the way you thought, and would show through your expressions forever?' Leodora leaned forward and spoke in a low, gentle tone. 'Your face would be spoilt. And then there would be no point to you any more.

Afterward it was hard to be sure exactly when the sublime light had dazzled their minds and driven them mad, since they went insane with such calm and dignity that nobody noticed.

For a second, she could almost see Caverna as the Kleptomancer did, a murky, monstrous beauty, smiling her fine-fanged smile as she prepared to stretch and grow, shaking out her tunnel-tresses as they became longer and longer. Perhaps Caverna had already known that such an opportunity was open to her. Neverfell imagined her discarding the Grand Steward like a worn-out toy, and reaching for a new favourite, a man who could extend her empire and bring her new strength . . . Maxim Childersin.

So what do you want?" asked Myrtle. "I want to help evolution." Evolution did not fill Faith with the same horror her father had felt. Why should she weep to hear that nothing was set in stone? Everything could change. Everything could get better. Everything was getting better, inch by inch, so slowly that she could not see it, but knowing it gave her strength.

Worlds ended sometimes.

Over this year, familiarity had done its usual work, picking off the gilded paint one scratch at a time.