Quotes About Transformation

If art doesn't make us better, then what on earth is it for.

Helped are those who forgive; their reward shall be forgetfulness of every evil done to them. It will be in their power, therefore, to envision the new Earth. -----"The Gospel According to Shug

You a low down dog is what's wrong. It's time to leave you and enter into the creation. And your dead body just the welcome mat I need.

the world has changed: it did not change without your prayers without your faith without your determination to believe in liberation and kindness; without your dancing through the years that had no beat.

First time I got the full sight of Shug Avery long black body with it black plum nipples, look like her mouth, I thought I had turned into a man

The heaving sickness past, her nausea gone, her bodily fluids replaced, she felt the lightness of being in the open space around her. Her walls the canyon's walls, she owned them not at all; her floor, the river beach. Her view, the heavens. It was, this freedom she was in, the longed-for cathedral of her dreams.

The world is changing, I said. It is no longer a world just for boys and men.

It seems wiser to do as hermit crabs do, find a shell and inhabit it.

The more powerful the powerful appear the more invisible they become, said Armando. This used to work differently than now. In the old days it was said that the powerful merged with the divine and the divine was all that one saw. But now the powerful have merged with the shadow, really with death, and when you encounter them they are really hard to see.

When we have changed everything we will eat congratulations with our tea.

But what was good tween us must have been nothing but bodies, she say. Cause I don't know the Albert that don't dance, can't hardly laugh, never talk bout nothing, beat you and hid your sister Nettie's letters. Who he?

Tashi's mother and father were just here. They are upset because she spends so much time with Olivia. She is changing, becoming quiet and too thoughtful, they say. She is becoming someone else; her face is beginning to show the spirit of one of her aunts who was sold to the trader because she no longer fit into village life. This aunt refused to marry the man chosen for her. Refused to bow to the chief. Did nothing but lay up, crack cola nuts between her teeth and giggle.

You know, he say, you use to remind me of a bird. Way back when you first come to live with me. You was so skinny, Lord, he say. And the least little thing happen, you looked about to fly away.

People will laugh at us because that [voting] is not radical,' they said, choosing to believe that radicalism would grow over their souls, like a bright armor, overnight.

Bueno, llega un momento en que todos hemos de empezar a cambiar si queremos mejorar. Y nuestra propia persona es lo que tenemos más a mano.

Hope to sin only in the service of waking up.

You a lowdown dog is what's wrong, I say. It's time to leave you and enter into the Creation. And your dead body just the welcome mat I need.

opening beyond where I was afraid to go would be the medicine for my cure.

Artists, he now understood, were simply messengers. On them fell the responsibility for uniting the world. An awesome task, but he felt up to it, in his own life. His faith must be that the pain he brought to others and to himself—so poorly concealed in the information delivered—would lead not to destruction, but to transformation

in the beginning she'd felt bereft, to have been shown so much and to have been patiently taught so much, and then to feel it evaporate. But she'd realized the teachings simply became a part of her. They became hers.

The world is as beautiful as it ever was. It is changing, but then it always has been. This is a good time to change, and remain beautiful, with it.

In 2005, The Color Purple became a phenomenally successful Broadway musical, playing to packed houses every night for over a year. In the process it transformed the "Great White Way" into a place where people of all colors, orientations and identities gathered to experience the show and to celebrate "God" as Life and Love, Perseverance, Hope, Creativity and Joy.

That was the beginning of her abstraction.

Gatsby's self-willed metamorphosis from farm boy to prince is many ways identical to my father's. Like Gatsby, my father fueled this transformation with the colossal vitality of his illusion. Unlike Gatsby he did this on a school teacher's salary.