Quotes About Transformation

We'd created meaning where there was none, but, I don't know, isn't that art? Or at least I think it's the kind of art that I like, where the obsession of one person envelops other people, transforms them.

I was pacing through the house, brushing my hair, rubbing moisturizer on my face, clipping my toenails, all these little things to make myself presentable, and, each time, I'd look at myself again in the mirror and feel like not a single thing had changed.

Buster closed his eyes, held his breath, and, before he realized that the gun had been fired, a gust of heat and wind passed over him and deconstructed the beer can atop his head, the sound of something irrevocably giving up its shape and becoming, in an instant, something new.

the sound of something irrevocably giving up its shape and becoming, in an instant, something new.

Like grass in rain, my dead grow at an amazing rate.

Like Rachel Dolezal, I too became black around the age of five. I first became a n----r at nine, so I had me a good run.

A skilled surgeon knows that cuts have to be made in order to operate, but the skilled surgeon also knows that the cuts are temporary and will heal. The end result of the operation is worth the initial pain, and the patient should heal to a better state than they were in before the surgery.

Even as the stone of the fruit must break, that its heart may stand in the sun, so must you know pain.... [A]ccept the seasons of your heart, even as you have always accepted the seasons that pass over your fields....

Time has been transformed, and we have changed it has advanced and set us in motion it has unveiled its face, inspiring us with bewilderment and exhilaration.

Turn the cell into a classroom and the prison into a university

Nine months spent in the womb of your mother have transformed a drop of water into 'you' – hearing, seeing and thinking. Can you imagine what a lifetime spent with the Qur'?n – seeking, hearing, seeing, thinking, striving – can do for you?

There is no book like the Qur'an. It quickens hearts and transforms lives, it leads whole people from glory to glory. It is the final answer to man's eternal, existential quest. For Muslims, it is the ultimate arbiter of their destiny: be it their rise to the heights of glory and civilization or their fall into the bottomless pits of decay and ignominy, it all happens because of how they live with respect to the Qur'an.

little mother of ancient days: Thou hast cunningly dyed thy hair but consider That thy bent back will never be straight!

And all the mumbo-jumbo of reincarnation. Man into ox into ape into beetle into eight million four hundred thousand kinds of animate things. Proof? We do not go in for such pedestrian pastimes as proof! That is Western. We are of the mysterious East. No proof, just faith. No reason, just faith.

Whichever way you look there is a din of tumult; Whichever way you go there are flames and torches; For tonight this world is heavy with labour pain; To give birth to a world which will forever remain.)

and, holy Mary Mother of Christ, he became as gentle as a lamb. The Pope is coming next week to give him first communion and confirmation.' The guru spoke next. He was in a wheelchair with an IV drip and both legs in casts.

You have seen the world and read many books, but take it from me that a snake can cast its slough but not its poison

The idea here is to find out how to make the canvas of our lives continuously empty - to learn how to approach each day as a blank slate, open to any possibility. How do we lose the cornrows of the past, the deep tracks we've dug on a day-to-day basis that keep us bound to the conventions of who we have been and who we are supposed to be?

Yes. Japan will overrun us," the scholar said. "But we will turn them into Chinese. Give us five hundred years. You wait.

She was re-creating herself, shedding one skin for another.

They had left the mountains and entered the world, and he became a predator. She had survived by playing dead.

You've changed me forever. And I'll never forget you.

Sam has rolled to his side, waiting patiently for Linna to remember to scratch him. Live forever, she thinks, and wills his twisted spine and legs straight and well.

Though now that I think about it, the workshop that day was probably focused on revision, as in Your First Draft Sucks and You Have a Thousand Do-Overs Before You Get It Right. Think of it this way: Build a city, then blow it up to save it. Invent a road to take you far out of town, then start over with one good brick.