Quotes About Transformation

could not picture that Father had once swung on a swing. He could not imagine that Father had once been a boy, like him. A boy. Carefree, light on his feet. Running headlong into the open fields with his playmates. Father, whose hands were scarred, whose face was crosshatched with deep lines of weariness. Father, who might as well have been born with shovel in hand and mud under his nails.

But for a moment, standing there with Tariq in the sunlight, it was as though those years had never happened. Her parents deaths, her marriage to Rasheed, the killings, the rockets, the Taliban, the beatings, the hunger, even her children, all of it seemed like a dream, a bizarre detour, a mere interlude between that last afternoon together and this moment.

December 2001 I became what I am today at the age of twelve, on a frigid overcast day in the winter of 1975. I remember the precise moment, crouching behind a crumbling mud wall, peeking into the alley near the frozen creek. That was a long time ago, but it's wrong what they say about the past, I've learned, about how you can bury it. Because the past claws its way out. Looking back now, I realize I have been peeking into that deserted alley for the last twenty-six years.

Hadn't we both yearned for escape, reinvention, new identities? Hadn't we each, in the end unmoored ourselves by cutting loose the anchors that weighed us down?

Hadn't we both yearned for escape, reinvention, new identities? Hadn't we each, in the end, unmoored ourselves by cutting loose the anchors that weighed us down?

Joseph shall return to Canaan, grieve not, Hovels shall turn to rose gardens, grieve not. If a flood should arrive, to drown all that's alive, Noah is your guide in the typhoon's eye, grieve not.

You know a bomb crater can be made into a swimming hole. You have learned dark blood is better news than bright.

but, for a moment, standing there with Tariq in the sunlight, it was as though those years had never happened. Her parents' deaths, her marriage to Rasheed, the killings, the rockets, the Taliban, the beatings, the hunger, ever her children, all of it seemed like a dream, a bizarre detour, a mere interlude between that last afternoon together and this moment.

I became what I am today at the age of twelve, on a frigid overcast day in the winter of 1975.

me pregunté si el perdón se manifestaría de esa manera, sin la fanfarria de la revelación, si simplemente el dolor recogería sus cosas, haría las maletas y se esfumaría sin decir nada en mitad de la noche.

Sai che il cratere prodotto da una bomba può diventare una piscina. Hai imparato che il sangue scuro è meno grave di quello chiaro.

Father used to say it's wrong to hurt even bad people. Because they don't know any better, and because bad people sometimes become good." "Not

desert weed lives on, but the flower of spring blooms and wilts.

I sense something deep inside me drawing me in, tugging at me like an undertow. I want to give in to it, be seized by it. I want to give up my bearings, slip out of who I am, shed everything, the way a snake discards old skin.

I wondered how and when I'd become capable of causing this kind of pain.

When spring comes, it melts the snow one flake at a time.

Emin olman?n tek yolu oraya geri dönmek.

Forse non è giusto, ma ciò che succede in pochi giorni, a volte in un solo giorno, può cambiare un'intera vita, Amir.

Forse non è giusto, ma ciò che succede in pochi giorni, a volte un solo giorno, può cambiare un'intera vita.

Time makes us forget.

Because when the spring comes it melts the snow one flake at a time...

No longer did she look like a shy little maid who was trained to censor her thought before it reached her mouth. These past few days had turned her into a reserved yet intelligent young woman.

It is now my intention to draw out from the story of Abraham the dialectical consequences inherent in it, expressing them in the form of problemata , in order to see what a tremendous paradox faith is, a paradox which is capable of transforming a murder into a holy act well-pleasing to God, a paradox which gives Isaac back to Abraham, which no thought can master, because faith begins precisely there where thinking leaves off.

It's funny how things seem different, suddenly.