Quotes About Transformation

So abased, so monotonous is everything that meets the eye, that when the Ganges comes down it might be expected to wash the excrescence back into the soil. Houses do fall, people are drowned and left rotting, but the general outline of the town persists, welling here, shrinking there, like some low but indestructible form of life.

For the dead, who seem to take away so much, really take with them nothing that is ours. The passion they have aroused lives after them, easy to transmute or to transfer, but well-nigh impossible to destroy.

Houses have their own ways of dying, falling as variously as the generations of men, some with a tragic roar, some quietly, but to an after-life in the city of ghosts, while from others—and thus was the death of Wickham Place—the spirit slips before the body perishes . . . By September it was a corpse, void of emotion, and scarcely hallowed by the memories of thirty years of happiness.

Something had changed. He had journeyed—as on rare occasions a man must—till he stood behind right and wrong. On the banks of the grey torrent of life, love is the only flower.

But Italy worked some marvel in her. It gave her light...

There was simply the sense that she had found wings, and meant to use them.

She "never exactly understood," she would say in after years, "how he managed to strengthen her. It was as if he had made her see the whole of everything at once.

Oniton, like herself, was imperfect. Its apple-trees were stunted, its castle ruinous. It, too, had suffered in the border warfare between the Anglo-Saxon and the Kelt, between things as they are and as they ought to be.

Tibby is moderately a dear now," said Helen. "There! I knew you'd say that in the end. Of course he's a dear.

But this place has wonderful powers." "What do you mean?" "I don't know." "Because I probably agree with you." "It kills what is dreadful and makes what is beautiful live.

To such a height was he lifted, that without regret he could now have told her that he was her worshipper too. But what was the use of telling her? For all the wonderful things had happened.

Madness is not for everyone, but Maurice's proved the thunderbolt that dispels the clouds.

To alter poor people until they became exactly like the people who were not so poor

What does one want with dusty economic books, which have made the world no better, ...

Her quiet, uneventful childhood must end, and it has ended

They reminded me somehow of the peasants in a book by Steinbeck: they were of the city, but they dressed like peasants, they looked like peasants, and they talked like peasants. Their cows were motor-driven milk floats; their tools were mop and pail and kneeling pad; their farms a forest of steel and concrete. In spite of the hairgrips and headscarves, they had their own kind of dignity. They

Time is tricky. You have whole months, even years, when nothing changes a speck, when you don't go anywhere or do anything or think one new thought. And then you can get hit with a day, or an hour, or a half a second when so much happens it's almost like you got born all over again into some brand-new person you for damn sure never expected to meet.

He apologized when I was twelve. He was crying. I don't like to remember that. I like to remember the time he spelled and defined 'metamorphosis' when my mama was clean. He used her as an example, and he was chewing on the Popsicle stick left over from our lunch that day. When he smiled, his teeth were mad purple.

Who has not seen a frail, clinging-vine type of woman, who upon the death of her husband strainghtens up and becomes an oak, around which the growing children twine their lives, and are forever greatful for such a mother? But this strength would never have come out and developed had it not been for the tears that watered the vine and made it into an oak.

Through God's grace we become those who believe and love. But in faith and love we who were once possessors become beings once more, and as such become those who are about to be, those whom God builds. We are taken away from ourselves to our own best advantage. Just for this reason we are free for the neighbor, free for the service of works.

Gördüm sevenleri... Ba?lar?na gelecekleri görmeyeceklerini gördüm... A??k olu?lar?n? gördüm... Anlamad?m... Anlayamad?m... Sonra sen ç?kageldin... Sonra sen... A??klar? gördüm... Acemilerdi... Ben dedim "Olamam böyle"... Sonra sen ç?kageldin... Sonra sen...

Bude tako neobi?no. Kao da si turist u vlastitom gradu. Postaneš netko drugi kad ne odeš ku?i, nego odeš u hotel. Kao da si u svoj život ušao kroz neka druga vrata...

Some changes look negative on the surface but you will soon realize that space is being created in your life for something new to emerge.

Death is a stripping away of all that is not you. The secret of life is to "die before you die" --- and find that there is no death.