Quotes About Transformation

It was like Abe took some part of him when he went, you know? He's never been the same.

In the end, I went away for the summer, fell in love, and everything changed. It's the oldest story in the world.

But something had changed in me, even if I didn't know what it was just yet. All I could think was that I felt alive for the first time since my birthday. From wherever she was, Cass had finally spoken to me, reaching out from dreamland to where I stood in this waking world, half-asleep and wobbly, under those bright, bright stars.

Something was changing, something I could sense even though I'd never been here before, like the way baby turtles know to go to the water at birth, instinctively. They just know.

It was a feeling I'd woken up with one morning, a kind of whirring in my ears and an instability to the world, like things were coming to a head. I faced myself in the bathroom mirror and looked into my eyes, wondering if I would see something new in them, something crackling and different. I felt strong, as if every muscle in my body was taut and lean, not creaky and bony anymore.

Everyone can reach back to one summer and lay a finger to it, finding the exact point when everything changed. That summer was mine.

People don't change. If anything, you get more set in your ways as you get older, not less.

I deserved to grow, and to change, to become all the girls I could ever be over the course of my life, each one better than the last.

Death was, after all, a temporary staging post in a longer journey

nevertheless there is a kind of comfort to be gained from the passing of time; hour upon hour, day upon day, time falling like thick flakes of snow, the next laid upon the last, again and again, until what has been is gradually covered over, its original shape and colour hidden under the blanket of what is now.

Everyone that exalteth himself shall be humbled, and he that humbleth himself shall be exalted" And she had tried, truly and honestly, tried so hard that sometimes, despite the nun's kindness and patience, she thought she might go mad with the effort.

there is a kind of comfort to be gained from the passing of time, hour upon hour, day upon day, time falling like thick flakes of snow, the next laid upon the last, again and again, until what has been is gradually covered over, its original shape and colour hidden under a blanket of what is now.

You're just smelling for smoke so you can follow the trail back to a burning house, so you can find the boy who lost everything in the fire to see if you can save him. Or else-- find the boy who lit the fire in the first place, to see if you can change him.

We were dandelion seeds released to the wind, she asked for no return. We are saplings now. With gentle hands.

It does not matter how long we have been kept in cages. It does not matter how strong your gravity is. We were always meant to fly.

Because rain will wash away everything, if you let it.

I am watching parts of me evaporate like sidewalk water. This wet grey, this nighttime dew, gone before morning.

Time punishes us by taking everything, but it also saves us — by taking everything.

If you think something's happened quickly, you're looking at only a part of it.

Only a fire can teach you what survives a fire. No, it teaches you what can survive that fire.

Finding Will, loving Will, had been a revelation. Like finding the other half of herself. Having his grounded wisdom to draw on when she needed it, knowing that no matter what, she had him to come home to, that his laughter was part of her world and that the passion and courage and joy he ignited in her were here to stay, had transformed her perception of herself.

noticed, it seemed as if the wagon had expanded overnight. She paused to

We were not always freaks. Sure, most of us occasionally exhibited freakish behavior. But that's not the same thing. This is the story of how we became freaks. It's how a group of Is became a we.

Well, there are other versions of the story," I say, thinking out loud. "Besides the throwing and the kissing." "Like what?" Frederic asks. I bite my lip. This is going to be worse than the frog-legs conversation. "Well, there's the one where the princess chops off the frog's head, and then he turns into a prince," I say all in a rush. Frederic's eyes almost pop out of his head. "I do not wish to try that one.