Quotes About Transformation

A simple example can be seen in the transformation of an idea into a painting, that is the transformation of the energy, the psychological energy of an idea into physical materialization. The idea itself, once you have conceived of it, represents an additional energy component that you build up, formulate and manipulate on the psychological level, and then transform; but the idea itself contains energy.

It is imperative that we move away from the concept of a self as an indivisible, rigid and limited reality.

It goes without saying that some people become ill rather than change their activities and their environments. They may also become ill, of course, to force themselves to make such changes. End

You can change your personal world. You do change it without knowing it.

The experiment that would transform your world would operate upon the basic idea that you create your own reality according to the nature of your beliefs, and that all existence was blessed, and that evil did not exist in it. If these ideas were followed individually and collectively, then the evidence of your physical senses would find no contradiction. They would perceive the world and existence as good.

Often we try to contact 'our source,' or the universe, or God, or whatever while acting as if that creative force is everywhere except where we are; as if it forms all of nature but ourselves. But we are each our own contacts with the universe. We are the universe as it transforms itself into private persons. Somehow we open up inside, and what we are intersects with what the universe is.

but as the eye cannot see its own shifting colors and expressions, as it is not aware that it lives and dies constantly as its atomic structure changes, so you are not aware that the ego continually changes, dies, and is reborn.

Above all, we pray that they will make the journey from selfishness to true love. Whether together or single, this is a journey we all have to make. In a sense it is the real journey of life.

What do you do with everything that is cut away? she asked Tilman, thinking now about the negative space of stone sculpture, the stone that is discarded, thinking too about how she had thrown away huge pieces of her own early life...

And the odd thing was, she was beautiful then. It was her awakening, her... recovery that made her beautiful. After that she just shone.

But as the scissors snip-snapped through her hair and the razor shaved the rest, she realized with a sudden awful panic that she could no longer recall anything from the past. I cannot remember, she whispered to herself. I cannot remember. She's been shorn of memory as brutally as she'd been shorn of her hair, without permission, without reason... Gone, all gone, she thought again wildly, no longer even sure what was gone, what she was mourning.

What was can never be again.

Fiction is like wrestling with angels-you do not expect to win, but you do expect to come away from the experience changed.

Snow White Makes a Plea to the Witch Light a candle. Feed your scrawny cat. Polish your dark house. Buy a new hat. Write odes, darn socks. Repair your crumbling stoop. Put a smile on your face. Pour out that sour soup. Move away from the mines, Far out by the bay. And I beg you, please, Throw that mirror away.

I think of death, not as a smokestack, but as an opening door.

Truly, we'll be wolves no longer, but as the tinker said once along ago, we'll survive like the foxes, their children.

Omygod, I haven't got years. I'll have to hide in the Bat Cave." "Once you go to the Bat Cave it's forever, babe." Eeek.

Everyone wants to be a better version of themselves," he said. "It's easy for you because you just needed a new jacket. For some other people the job is more complicated.

He'd abandoned his usual outfit of black rap clothes or GI Joe cammies. He was wearing a brown leather jacket, a cream-colored Henley, faded jeans, and work boots. His hair, which had always been slicked back in a ponytail, was cut short. He had a two-day beard, making his teeth seem whiter and his Latino complexion seem darker.

Mañoso grinned. "This is gonna be fun. This here's gonna be like Professor Higgins and Eliza Doolittle Does Trenton.

Their tiny villages were razed, the hillsides were shaved off, and everything was dumped into the water between the two islands to create one completely flat piece of land for a new international airport.

I thought clay must feel happy in the good potter's hand.

She was not used to being cruel, but he had taught her how.

It's their skins I'm peeling, she said. The skins of the insipid scribblers, which I graft to the page, creating monsters of meaninglessness.