Quotes About Transformation

The oak sleeps in the acorn. The bird waits in the egg, and in the highest vision of the soul, a waking angel stirs. Dreams are the seedlings of reality.

I realise the dominating thoughts of my mind will eventually reproduce themselves in outward, physical action and gradually transform themselves into physical reality. Therefore I will concentrate my thoughts for 30 minutes daily upon the task of thinking of the person I intend to become, thereby creating in my mind a clear mental picture of that person.

The turning point in the lives of those who succeed usually comes at the moment of some crisis, through which they are introduced to their 'other selves'. John Bunyan

an intangible impulse of thought can be transmuted into material rewards

Second: I realize the dominating thoughts of my mind will eventually reproduce themselves in outward, physical action, and gradually transform themselves into physical reality; therefore, I will concentrate my thoughts for thirty minutes daily, upon the task of thinking of the person I intend to become, thereby creating in my mind a clear mental picture.

Remember, too, that all who succeed in life get off to a bad start, and pass through many heartbreaking struggles before they "arrive." The turning point in the lives of those who succeed, usually comes at the moment of some crisis, through which they are introduced to their "other selves." John

Faith is the element which transforms the ordinary vibration of thought, created by the finite mind of man, into the spiritual equivalent.

The turning point in the lives of those who succeed, usually comes at the moment of some crisis, through which they are introduced to their other selves.

An idea or desire, to be transformed into terms of action or physical reality, must be held in the conscious mind faithfully and persistently until habit begins to give it permanent form.

Keep your attention firmly concentrated on your new path-building and forget all about the old paths.

Lay me on an anvil, O God. Beat me and hammer me into a crowbar. Let me pry loose old walls. Let me lift and loosen old foundations. Lay me on an anvil, O God. Beat me and hammer me into a steel spike. Drive me into the girders that hold a skyscraper together. Take red-hot rivets and fasten me into the central girders. Let me be the great nail holding a skyscraper through blue nights into white stars.

I tell you the past is a bucket of ashes. I tell you yesterday is a wind gone down, a sun dropped in the west. I tell you there is nothing in the world only an ocean of to-morrows, a sky of to-morrows.

I speak of new cities and new people I tell you the past is a bucket of ashes. I tell you yesterday is a wind gone down, a sun dropped in the west. I tell you there is nothing in the world only an ocean of tomorrows. a sky of tomorrows. I am a brother of the cornhuskers who say at sundown: Tomorrow is a day." - Carl Sandburg, Cornhuskers

Here is dust remembers it was a rose one time and lay in a woman's hair. Here is dust remembers it was a woman one time and in her hair lay a rose. Oh things one time dust, what else now is it you dream and remember of old days? ? Carl Sandburg, "Dust," The Complete Poems of Carl Sandburg . (Houghton Mifflin Harcourt; First Edition edition January 6, 2003) Originally published 1950.

Dust of the feet And dust of the wheels, Wagons and people going, All day feet and wheels. Now... ...Only stars and mist

The keepers of wisdom testify a heap of ashes means whatever was there went out burning.

If the Lord should come He'd change you to nothing for there's nothing to you.

Languages die like rivers. Words wrapped around your tongue today And broken to shape and thought Between your teeth and lips speaking Now and today Shall be faded hieroglyphics Ten thousand years from now.

The wind carves sand into shapes Endless the fresh designs, Wind and ice patient beyond telling. Ice can tip mountains over, Ice the giant beyond measure. And the sun governs valley lights, Transforms hats into shoes and back again Before we are through any long looking.

YOU! You're boring! You're not even good enough for a good insult! You're in the one place Where magic is always real! Part the seas if you want! Rain down ink and blood! Transform! Fly! You're not allowed to spend the rest of your life panicking! You've got to give something back if you want to get out of here! What? What?? What do I give? You've got stories in there, I know, I can smell 'em-- Stoppit, stoppit! I don't! I can't tell a story to save my life! Funny you should put it that way.

God does not hurry over things; time is his, not mine. And I, little creature, a man, have been called to be transformed into God by sharing his life. And what transforms me is the charity which he pours into my heart.

Only very late do we learn the price of the risk of believing, because only very late do we face up to the idea of death. This is what is difficult. Believing truly means dying. Dying to everything: to our reasoning, to our plans, to our past, to our childhood dreams, to our attachment to earth, and sometimes even to the sunlight, as at the moment of our physical death.

Christ has freed us from the past with its infinite complexities. In Him we have become new creatures and begun a new life, owing nothing to anyone, writing in our book, Now I am beginning... What matter is your past, your sin? Now walk in the newness you have found and sin no more.

How it happened that Mastro Cherry, carpenter, found a piece of wood that wept and laughed like a child. Centuries ago there lived -- A king! my little readers will say immediately. No, children, you are mistaken. Once upon a time there was a piece of wood.