Quotes About Transformation

bluestocking, Nancy. Married life has quite changed something

You can try things on if you want," Izzie said carelessly. "Although you're rather small compared to me. Jolie et petite." Ursula declined, fearing enchantment. They were the kind of clothes that might turn you into someone else.

God created Man," she repeated. "And then he had a better idea.

What is the deepest loss that you have suffered? If drinking is bitter, change yourself to wine. —from Sonnets to Orpheus II, 29 Rainer Maria Rilke

We, in our less than divine wisdom but apparently quite divine powers, are now transforming the planet like an Olympian might have created an Ice Age, or a Titan might have thrown down an asteroid from the sky to kill off a bunch of dinosaurs. We are the gods. Our scientists have said so.

Those times when I couldn't stand what I was, and I didn't know how I could possibly be something else.

Identities aren't meant to be permanent. They're like cars: they take us from one place to another. We work, travel, and seek adventure in them until they break down beyond repair. At that point, living well means finding a new model that better suits us for a new moment.

The city atmosphere certainly has improved her. Some way she doesn't seem like the same woman.

She felt as if a mist had been lifted from her eyes, enabling her to look upon and comprehend the significance of life, that monster made up of beauty and brutality.

It sometimes entered Mr. Pontellier's mind to wonder if his wife were not growing a little unbalanced mentally. He could see plainly that she was not herself. That is, he could not see that she was becoming herself and daily casting aside that fictitious self which we assume like a garment with which to appear before the world.

He could see plainly that she was not herself. That is, he could not see that she was becoming herself [...].

He observed his hostess attentively from under his shaggy brows, and noted a subtle change which had transformed her from the listless woman he had known into a being who, for the moment, seemed palpitant with the forces of life. Her speech was warm and energetic. There was no repression in her glance or gesture. She reminded him of some beautiful, sleek animal waking up in the sun.

She said it over and over under her breath: "free, free, free!" The vacant stare and the look of terror that had followed it went from her eyes. They stayed keen and bright. Her pulses beat fast, and the coursing blood warmed and relaxed every inch of her body.

That is, he could not see that she was becoming herself and daily casting aside that fictitious self which we assume like a garment with which to appear before the world.

There was with her a feeling of having descended in the social scale, with a corresponding sense of having risen in the spiritual.

She was becoming herself, casting aside that fictitious self which we assume like a garment.

It sometimes entered Mr. Pontellier's mind to wonder if his wife were not growing a little unbalanced mentally. He could see plainly that she was not herself. That is, he could not see that she was becoming herself and daily casting aside that fictitious self which we assume like a garment with which to appear before the world.

She let her mind wander back over her stay at Grand Isle; and she tried to discover wherein this summer had been different from any and every other summer of her life. She could only realize that she herself--her present self--was in some way different from the other self. That she was seeing with different eyes and making the acquaintance of new conditions in herself that colored and changed her environment, she did not yet suspect.

Qualche volta al signor Pontellier veniva il dubbio che sua moglie cominciasse ad accusare qualche lieve squilibrio mentale. Vedeva chiaramente che non era più lei. O meglio, non vedeva che Edna stava diventando se stessa, e che ogni giorno si liberava di quella falsa identità che adottiamo come un abito con cui presentarci davanti al pubblico.

He could see plainly that she was not herself. That is, he could not see that she was becoming herself and daily casting aside the fictitious self which we assume like a garment with which to appear before the world.

She felt as if a mist had been lifted from her eyes, enabling her to took upon and comprehend the significance of life, that monster made up of beauty and brutality

It happened every single day in Brooklyn: awaken to fresh glory, fall asleep to blight and ruin.

Book the First A MOUSE IS BORN Book the Second CHIAROSCURO Book the Third GOR! THE TALE OF MIGGERY SOW Book the Fourth RECALLED TO THE LIGHT Coda

And I have some poetry that I would like to recite to you in honor of the recent, um, transformations in your life." Tootie put a hand on her chest. "This is Rilke," she said. "'You, sent out beyond your recall, / go to the limits of your longing. / Embody me. / Flare up like flame / and make big shadows I can move in.