Quotes About Transformation

Fear was once again breaking the shell around me so that something else could spring to life.

Love me. You have destroyed everything! But if you love me, it can all be restored in a new form. Love me.

I read her thoughts and I found the poetry inside of her, beneath the misfortune of warts and pockmarked skin, of hunched shoulders and deformed limbs. I loved her. Indeed she became, whole and entire, quite beautiful to me—. And she came to love me with her whole heart.

The blood ran in tiny rivulets down his white face, as if from Christ's Crown of Thorns, his long blond hair flying out as he turned full circle, his hand ripping at his shirt, tearing it open down his chest, the black tie loose and falling. His pale crystalline blue eyes were glazed and shot with blood as he screamed the unimportant lyrics.

I'd loved the satin lining of the box. I'd loved the shape, and the twilight act of rising from the dead. But no more Ã¢â'¬Â¦ 

The second thing I believe is that all of us would be human again if we could.

Dear Reader, he switched human bodies before I made him a vampire, worry no more. It has nothing to do with this story.

True, in The Howling , they had fun making out, but other than that, what was the good of being a movie werewolf? You howled at the moon; you couldn't remember what you did, and then somebody shot you.

Sometimes it seems that light can transform anything! That it is an undeniable and irreducible metaphor for grace. But do the people of the ranchitos know this? Is it for beauty that they do it? Or do they merely want a comfortable illumination in their little shacks? It doesn't matter. We can't stop ourselves from making beauty. We can't stop the world.

I watched him rise from the coffin, with slow, elegant gestures; our gestures, for we are the only beings who routinely rise from coffins.

Divesting oneself so totally of the customary feelings of alienation and distrust that the subsequent acceptance was intellectually orgasmic.

Something had happened to his entire body that was very much like what happens to the erectile tissue of his organ when a man is sexually aroused. It increases marvellously in size, no matter what the man wants to happen. It goes from something flaccid and secret to becoming a kind of weapon.

Apparently each century yields a new kind of vampire, or let us say that our course of growth was not set in the beginning any more than the course of human beings.

Be it further understood that all mortals who would receive the Dark Gifts should be beautiful in person so that the insult to God might be greater when the Dark Trick is done. Three

The silent ebb and flow of life without change seemed deadly to me.

I'll write about my past but I won't talk about it. I'll turn it into art if I can, but I won't talk about it.

boy—before intense anxiety had crushed his chances for the Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater and sent him into the awful mental decline in which he'd been made a vampire.

writers had a way of "redeeming everything that ever happens to them.

It will never again be what it was. It's a wonder that I didn't foresee the cataclysm, but then I never really envision the finish of anything that I start.

In the story of the prince and the frog, there's always a frog. This story ... it has no frog.

I was a human being once," said the younger ghost. "I was a blood drinker for centuries after that. And I am a ghost now. And my soul has been my soul in all three forms.

She would have been gorgeous if someone had thrown her into a waterfall and held her there for half an hour

Maybe the old ones are right. I refer now to the true immortals—the blood drinkers who've survived the millennia—who say that none of us really changes over time; we only become more fully what we are.

What had he done to become what he was? Could one so young so long ago have guessed the meaning of any decision, let alone the vow to become this?