Quotes About Transformation

Even if it was just walls and a roof with papers inside, it had bewitched him, and drawn him in, and given him everything he needed to become himself.

Érase una vez una niña que creció entre monstruos. Pero los ángeles incendiaron las puertas hacia su mundo, y ella quedó completamente sola.

And at that moment, for no reason he could put into words, the hourglass shattered. No more, the cool gray sift of days, the diligent waiting for the future to trickle forth. Lazlo's dream was spilled out into the air, the color and storm of it no longer a future to be reached, but a cyclone here and now. He didn't know what, but as surely as one feels the sting of shards when an hourglass tips of a shelf and smashes, he knew that something was happening. Right now.

He had crossed continents and drunk starlight from rivers without names. There was no going back from that.

When they had hurried to the train station with their violin cases, they had drawn almost as many stares as they would on any normal day when their hair was to their knees and sheeting behind them like red silk. A poetic fruit-seller had told them once that they looked like dryads, and they did still, only now they looked like dryads who had tired of snagging their hair on brambles and sliced it all off on the edge of a knife.

Inside a mist, inside a dream, a young man and woman were remade.

And… it's like all my life I've been this tower standing at the edge of the ocean for some obscure purpose, and only now, almost eighteen years in, has someone thought to flip the switch that reveals that I'm not a tower at all. I'm a lighthouse.

To a new generation of butterflies, hopefully less stupid than last. Maybe they were burgeoning even now in fat little cocoons. Or maybe not.

There was only one possible answer, as plain as it was disturbing. That she was not, in fact, human.

It didn't matter; by now she knew she loved him in any skin. In her book there was another tale - one of the original eighteen - of a dragon who had a human wife, and Neve had never understood it before, at least from the wifes point of view. Love was love. But she hoped that he was not a dragon.

Había descubierto que la clemencia era capaz de una alquimia increíble: una sola gota podía diluir un lago de odio.

So Sarai gave in to the scream that night, and the dark things within her took wing. They came boiling out between her lips, and they weren't demons after all, but moths.

Letting you go, Karou, will be like oenin the window for a butterfly. One does not hope for the butterfly's return." "I'm not a freaking butterfly.

Once you know magic is real, it's really hard to remember what it was like not to know.

There were crinkles at the corners of his eyes, which were merry and asquint with unselfconscious happiness. The change was profound. If he was beautiful when grave-and he was-smiling, he was nothing short of glorious.

So what,' said Zuzana. 'They had to be pretty stupid butterflies to fall for him anyway. You'll grow new ones with more sense. New wise butterflies.

Do the thing. Kill the monster. Change the world.

Plants...dreamed they were birds...and they found rich soil and sweet seas and plants that dreamed they were birds and drifted up to the clouds on leaves like wings.

Our eyes meet. And…it's like all my life I've been this tower standing at the edge of the ocean for some obscure purpose, and only now, almost eighteen years in, has someone thought to flip the switch that reveals that I'm not a tower at all. I'm a lighthouse. It's like waking up. I am incandescent.

He pulled free of Ruza and turned to face it, but still he hesitated. "My boy," he heard in his mind - old Master Hyrrokkin's words, kindly meant. "I hardly think he's recruiting librarians, boy." And always, there was Thyon Nero's voice. "Enlighten me, Strange. In what version of the would could you possibly help? What version of the world? The dream version, in which he could do anything, even fly. Even reshape mesarthium. Even hold Sarai in his arms.

Las cosas cambian. Pueden cambiarlas quienes tienen voluntad de hacerlo.

The venom sang in him, and he was something more than human. He was a whirlwind. He was a god.

Here was no storm, no fury. There was some new quiet in her, but it didn't shrink or wilt her. Rather, it seemed to enlarge her. She was no mere weapon as she was trained to be, but a woman in full command of her power, unbowed and unbroken, and that was a dangerous thing.

But… if they'd been embraced instead, and raised with love," he said, "they wouldn't have become tormentors.