Quotes About Transformation

Có? wy wiecie o triumfie, który pozwala rozkoszowa? siÄ™ wÅ'asnÄ… niedojrzaÅ'oÅ›ciÄ… i jest jednoczeÅ›nie jej wyswobodzeniem i przezwyci??eniem?

I like the rain. It washes memories off the sidewalk of life.

But as I would later learn, Soon-Yi was not just a diamond in the rough but round cut and flawless

relations had since curdled into Roquefort cheese

I have since, at my wife's insistence, given up nail biting, replacing that disgusting habit with the more socially acceptable coprolalia.

The moment I sold the Plymouth was like having a tumor removed.

Even amidst fierce flames the golden lotus can be planted - Sylvia Plath's epitaph (from Wu Cheng'en's novel Journey to the West aka. Monkey, translated by Arthur Waley)

The earth is black in front of the cliff, and no orchids grow. Creepers crawl in the brown mud by the path. Where did the birds of yesterday fly? To what other mountain did the animals go? Leopards and pythons dislike this ruined spot; Cranes and snakes avoid the desolation. My criminal thoughts of those days past Brought on the disaster of today.

Why did you go towards the monster when he wanted to eat you up instead of running away? Now he's swallowed you. Today you're still a monk, but tomorrow you'll be a turd.

Amar es desnudarse de los nombres, rezaba uno de sus poemas expropiados, pero aun así Pig se conformaba con cambiarlos. Uno le cambia el nombre a las personas y a las cosas porque así las convierte en solo suyas.

I knelt a mortal; I rose an immortal.

Because to suffer and do nothing is to be nothing, while to suffer and do something is to become someone.

Change becomes a habit and habits are hard to change .

It is true that those we meet can change us

Then normal sank.

can change us, sometimes so profoundly that we are not the same afterwards, even unto our names.

It would no longer be the small thing it was before, but the most important thing in the world, the thing that would save my life. This happened time and again.

They would emerge a short distance away, sometimes three or four of them, a short lived archipelago of volcanic islands.

That's what fiction is about, isn't it, the selective transforming of reality?

It was Richard Parker who calmed me down. It is the irony of this story that the one who scared me witless to start with was the very same who brought me peace, purpose, I dare say even wholeness.

It is the irony of this story that the one who scared me witless to start with was the very same who brought me peace, purpose, I dare say even wholeness.

Staring and staring into the mirror, it sees many faces within its face - the face of the child, the boy, the young man, the not-so-young man - all present still, preserved like fossils on superimposed layers, and, like fossils, dead. Their message to this live dying creature is: Look at us - we have died - what is there to be afraid of? It answers them: But that happened so gradually, so easily. I'm afraid of being rushed.

If we remain relatively stable and unchanging in terms of our thinking, then the very power of life for change and creation will become exhausted.

The only difference between a rut and the grave is the depth.