Quotes About Transformation

What Jesus is saying here, powerfully and clearly, is that if you do the work of transforming your being, moving beyond the egoic mind, then you become a living spirit.

A sophiological Christianity focuses on the path.

You can't make an omelette without breaking eggs ... They thought that just because they were smashing eggs they must be making an omelette

But on this night, for this Volkking's death, when the Death Maiden no longer cried out, and the beating hands had tired, and throats were too raw to howl again, and silence flowed like night out of the low doorway of the Death House, flames erupted --

Dicey awoke the next morning with the sense that she was ready to solve problems, the way you often do, as if the time of sleep were a long journey to a distant country where alterations in geographical formations, in light, in ways of living, in language even, enable you to see your own world more clearly.

A stone lies in a river; a piece of wood is jammed against it; dead leaves, drifting logs, and branches caked with mud collect; weeds settle there, and soon birds have made a nest and are feeding their young among the blossoming water plants. Then the river rises and the earth is washed away. The birds depart, the flowers wither, the branches are dislodged and drift downward; no trace is left of the floating island but a stone submerged by the water; — such is our personality.

Religion used to be the opium of the people. To those suffering humiliation, pain, illness, and serfdom, religion promised the reward of an after life. But now, we are witnessing a transformation, a true opium of the people is the belief in nothingness after death, the huge solace, the huge comfort of thinking that for our betrayals, our greed, our cowardice, our murders, we are not going to be judged.

Not that I want to be a god or a hero. Just to change into a tree, grow for ages, not hurt anyone.

When we really want to go for something better, we shall smash the old. Until then, any sort of proposal, or making proposals, is no more than a tiresome game for self-important people.

a temple was never perfectly a temple, till it was ruined and mixed up with the winds and the sky and the herbs.

No creo en el mundo, ni en el dinero, ni en el progreso, ni en el futuro de nuestra civilización. Si es que la humanidad tiene un futuro, tendrá que hacerse muy diferente de como es ahora.

Instead of her soul swaying with new life, it seemed to droop, to bleed, as if it were wounded.

And besides, look at elder flowers and bluebells-they are a sign that pure creation takes place - even the butterfly. But humanity never gets beyond the caterpillar stage -it rots in the chrysalis, it never will have wings.It is anti-creation, like monkeys and baboons.

Sometimes snakes can't slough. They can't burst their old skin. Then they go sick and die inside the old skin, and nobody ever sees the new pattern. It needs a real desperate recklessness to burst your old skin at last. You simply don't care what happens to you, if you rip yourself in two, so long as you do get out.

You've got very badly to want to get rid of the old, before anything new will appear — even in the self.

You're spending your life without renewing it.

It was obvious in them too that love had gone through them: that is, the physical experience. It is curious what a subtle but unmistakable transmutation it makes, both in the body of men and women: the woman more blooming, more subtly rounded, her young angularities softened, and her expression either anxious or triumphant: the man much quieter, more inward, the very shapes of his shoulders and his buttocks less assertive, more hesitant.

She saw the sunshine going out of him, and she resented it.

She was gone, she was not, and she was born: a woman.

She egged me on to poetry and reading: in a way, she made a man of me. I read and I thought like a house on fire, for her.

Paul felt life changing around him. The conditions of youth were gone.

Morel fell into a slow ruin. His body, which had been beautiful in movement and in being, shrank, did not seem to ripen with the years, but to get mean and rather despicable.

If the one I love remains unchanged and unchanging, I shall cease to love her. It is only because she changes and startles me into change and defies my inertia, and is herself staggered in her inertia by my changing, that I can continue to love her. If she stayed put, I might as well love the pepper-pot.

She went to the wood next day. It was a grey, still afternoon, with the dark-green dogs'-mercury spreading under the hazel copse, and all the trees making a silent effort to open their buds. Today she could almost feel it in her own body, the huge heave of the sap in the massive trees, upwards, up, up to the bud-tips, there to push into little flamey oak-leaves, bronze as blood. It was like a tide running turgid upward, and spreading on the sky.