fuck yeah, literary quotes
Tagged
change
We changed again, and yet again, and it was now too late and too far to go back, and I went on. And the mists had all solemnly risen now, and the world lay spread before me.
I haven’t the slightest idea how to change people, but still I keep a long list of prospective candidates just in case I should ever figure it out.
I wanted to change the world. But I have found that the only thing one can be sure of changing is oneself.
The world is changed because you are made of ivory and gold. The curves of your lips rewrite history.
We cannot change the cards we are dealt, just how we play the hand.
It’s a wonder I’m even alive. Sometimes I think that. I think that I can’t believe I haven’t killed myself. But there’s something in me that just keeps going on. I think it has something to do with tomorrow, that there is always one, and that everything can change when it comes.
To live is to be marked. To live is to change, to acquire the words of a story, and that is the only celebration we mortals really know. In perfect stillness, frankly, I’ve only found sorrow.
I like to see people reunited, I like to see people run to each other, I like the kissing and the crying, I like the impatience, the stories that the mouth can’t tell fast enough, the ears that aren’t big enough, the eyes that can’t take in all of the change, I like the hugging, the bringing together, the end of missing someone.
