Quotes About Transformation

A room? A nice room? A beautiful room? A beautiful room with bath? Swing high, swing low, swing to and fro...This happened and that happened... And then the days came and I was alone.

Soon he'll come in again and kiss me, but differently. He'll be different and so I'll be different. It'll be different. I thought, 'It'll be different, different. It must be different.

It was as if a curtain had fallen, hiding everything I had ever known. It was almost like being born again. The colours were different, the smells different, the feeling things gave you right down inside yourself was different. Not just the difference between heat, cold; light, darkness; purple, grey. But a difference in the way I was frightened and the way I was happy.

Saved, rescued, but not quite so good as new...

He says: 'it doesn't matter. What I know is that I could do this with you' — he makes a movement with his hands like a baker, kneading a loaf of bread — 'and afterwards you'd be different.

When I complain about the bandages she says: 'I promise you that when you take them off you'll be just as you were before.' And it is true. When she takes them off there is not one line, not one wrinkle, not one crease. And five weeks afterwards there I am, with not one line, not one wrinkle, not one crease. And there he is, lying with a ticket tied around his wrist because he died in a hospital. And there I am looking down at him, without one line, without one wrinkle, without one crease...

I woke the next morning knowing that nothing would be the same. It would change and go on changing.

Once, I was a master at recycling leftovers. Now I cultivate the art of simmering memories.

My diving bell becomes less oppressive, and my mind takes flight like a butterfly.

When I began a diet a week before my stroke, I never dreamed of such a dramatic result.

When she bleeds the smells I know change colour. There is iron in her soul on those days. She smells like a gun.

Now that I have lost you I cannot allow you to develop, you must be a photograph not a poem.

It is not possible to control the outside of yourself until you have mastered your breathing space. It is not possible to change anything until you understand the substance you wish to change.

Intensity is the desire to receive. Open yourself to light and you will become light.

Only a fool tries to reconstruct a bunch of grapes from a bottle of wine.

I've lived my life like a serial killer; finish with one part, strangle it and move on to the next. Life in neat little boxes is life in neat little coffins, the dead bodies of the past laid out side by side. I am discovering, now, in the late afternoon of the day, that the dead still speak.

There is a certain seductiveness about dead things. You can ill treat, alter and recolour what's dead. It won't complain.

Her suffering was her armour. Gradually it became her skin. Then she could not take it off.

when the dying sun bled the blue sky orange.

I wrote my way out.

My mother had painted the white roses red and now she claimed they grew that way.

What we notice in stories is the nearness of the wound to the gift.

Energy cannot be lost, only transformed; where do the words go?

I thought I might become someone else in time, grafted on to something better and stronger. And then I saw that the running away was a running towards. An effort to catch up with my fleet-footed self, living another life in a different way.