Metamorphosis Quotes

“Nothing ever really goes away--it just changes into something else. Something beautiful.”
― Sarah Ockler, Twenty Boy Summer

“A story only matters, I suspect, to the extent that the people in the story change.”
― Neil Gaiman, The Ocean at the End of the Lane

“We are all butterflies. Earth is our chrysalis.”
― LeeAnn Taylor

“The books we need are of the kind that act upon us like a misfortune, that makes us suffer like the death of someone we love more than ourselves, that make us feel as though we were on the verge of suicide, lost in a forest remote from all human habitation.”
― Franz Kafka, The Trial

“Reading poetry is like undressing before a bath. You don't undress out of fear that your clothes will become wet. You undress because you want the water to touch you. You want to completely immerse yourself in the feeling of the water and to emerge anew.”
― Kamand Kojouri

“Nobody really metamorphoses. Cinderella is always Cinderella, just in a nicer dress. The Ugly Duckling was always a swan, just a smaller version. And I bet the tadpole and the caterpillar still feel the same, even when they're jumping and flying, swimming and floating.

Just like I am now.”
― Holly Smale, Geek Girl

“And besides, we lovers fear everything”
― Ovid, Metamorphoses

“In our day and age, global society has been saturated with the wrong teaching of false positivity. The denial of darkness never equates the abundance of light. And the denial of your actual character never equates to the reality of your best character. People today are afraid to work on themselves and on their actual realities, they believe that outward appearances are enough. Outward appearances have become everything in our current day and age. People don't see what they are actually like, nor who they actually are, in reality. They live in a phantasmic version of reality. It has to stop. In the phantasmic version of reality, there is no chance to experience true love, true goodness, and true metamorphosis. The caterpillar does not become a butterfly by telling everybody it has wings. It actually buries itself in darkness and grows those wings.”
― C. JoyBell C.

“To only responsible choice I can make is to be love and happiness." Vincellent

"Love the world as you love yourself".Lao Tze

"The next step in mans evolution will be the survival of the wisest.”
― Deepak Chopra

“And each stroke of his tongue ripped off skin after successive skin, all the skins of a life in the world, and left behind a nascent patina of shining hairs. My earrings turned back to water and trickled down my shoulders; I shrugged the drops off my beautiful fur.”
― Angela Carter

“If I didn't have my parents to think about I'd have given in my notice a long time ago, I'd have gone up to the boss and told him just what I think, tell him everything I would, let him know just what I feel. He'd fall right off his desk! And it's a funny sort of business to be sitting up there at your desk, talking down at your subordinates from up there, especially when you have to go right up close because the boss is hard of hearing.”
― Franz Kafka, The Metamorphosis

“Metamorphosis is the most profound of all acts.”
― Catherynne M. Valente, In the Night Garden

“Butterflies are beautiful, but the process of emerging from the chrysalis and spreading your wings can hurt like fucking hell. But still, you will survive the transformation (over and over again) and you will fly. Remember this when it hurts the most. This is the metamorphosis, the going down to liquid, and the rising again. It’s no joke – but damn, it’s one hell of a journey.”
― Jeanette LeBlanc

“New skin, a new land! And a land of liberty, if that is possible! I chose the geology of a land that was new to me, and that was young, virgin, and without drama, that of America. I traveled in America, but instead of romantically and directly rubbing the snakeskin of my body against the asperities of its terrain, I preferred to peel protected within the armor of the gleaming black crustacean of a Cadillac which I gave Gala as a present. Nevertheless all the men who admire and the women who are in love with my old skin will easily be able to find its remnants in shredded pieces of various sizes scattered to the winds along the roads from New York via Pittsburgh to California. I have peeled with every wind; pieces of my skin have remained caught here and there along my way, scattered through that "promised land" which is America; certain pieces of this skin have remained hanging in the spiny vegetation of the Arizona desert, along the trails where I galloped on horseback, where I got rid of all my former Aristotelian "planetary notions." Other pieces of my skin have remained spread out like tablecloths without food on the summits of the rocky masses by which one reaches the Salt Lake, in which the hard passion of the Mormons saluted in me the European phantom of Apollinaire. Still other pieces have remained suspended along the "antediluvian" bridge of San Francisco, where I saw in passing the ten thousand most beautiful virgins in America, completely naked, standing in line on each side of me as I passed, like two rows of organ-pipes of angelic flesh with cowrie-shell sea vulvas.”
― Salvador Dalí, The Secret Life of Salvador Dalí

“And I feel like the Queen of Water. I feel like water that transforms from a flowing river to a tranquil lake to a powerful waterfall to a freshwater spring to a meandering creek to a salty sea to raindrops gentle on your face to hard, stinging hail to frost on a mountaintop, and back to a river again.”
― Maria Virginia Farinango, The Queen of Water

“When a book leaves its author's desk it changes. Even before anyone has read it, before eyes other than its creator's have looked upon a single phrase, it is irretrievably altered. It has become a book that can be read, that no longer belongs to its maker. It has acquired, in a sense, free will. It will make its journey through the world and there is no longer anything the author can do about it. Even he, as he looks at its sentences, reads them differently now that they can be read by others. They look like different sentences. The book has gone out into the world and the world has remade it.”
― Salman Rushdie , Joseph Anton: A Memoir

“It is extraordinary that nobody nowadays under the stress of great troubles is turned into stone or a bird or a tree or some inanimate object; they used to undergo such metamorphoses in ancient times (or so they say), though whether that is myth or a true story I know not. Maybe it would be better to change one's nature into something that lacks all feeling, rather than be so sensitive to evil. Had that been possible, these calamities would in all probability have turned me to stone.”
― Anna Comnena, The Alexiad

“Similar to a butterfly, I've gone through a metamorphosis, been released from my dark cocoon, embraced my wings, and soared!”
― Dana Arcuri, Reinventing You: Simple Steps to Transform Your Body, Mind, & Spirit

“When, at last, I ceased to be myself, I came to be.”
― Kamand Kojouri

“Even now, I still believe metamorphosis is the greatest beauty.”
― David Vann, Aquarium

“Noel ducked to the lower cabinets – a percussion of pots and pans clanged into each other.

“Are you intentionally trying not to listen to me?”

His head popped above the counter. “I resent that. I’m a great listener. Just ask the TV.”

Emily rolled her eyes. “Alright. I had…”

Noel heard her swallow and he suddenly wanted to knock himself out with the frying pan.

“…relations…with a mortal, Tommy.”

He ducked again, this time from embarrassment. He groaned silently, wishing she’d turn and walk away before she said what he knew was coming.

“It wasn’t quite the same as it was when I was human. It didn’t—”

“Please you, yeah I got it,” he blurted. “Please, for the love of God, stop.”
― Devon Ashley, Metamorphosis

“Among the many fox magics her sobo had delighted in describing, the one that had most captured her imagination was the power to alter form. The most eldritch among foxes could turn (or so her grandmother would claim in that musical croak that was her storytelling voice) into human beings. The they would creep into the lives of lonely and impressionable souls and offer them long-sought affection.”
― Ali Shaw, The Trees

“A changed soul, a forgiven heart, a journey of transformation.”
― Chimnese Davids, Redeeming Soul

“Stay connected to all that nurtures your Soul, and release into the mystical stormy waters all that has served its place. We are here to be loved and absolutely nothing less. Go ahead and walk into the waters of your Soul knowing that the only certainty in life is in miracles. We are a miracle.”
― Ulonda Faye, Sutras of the Heart: Spiritual Poetry to Nourish the Soul

“To have a solid foundation of skepticism, -that is to say, the faculty of changing at any moment, of turning back, of facing successively the metamorphoses of life.”
― Remy de Gourmont, Philosophic Nights in Paris

“(Was personally still a word he could use? Was he still a person?)”
― Emily Habeck, Shark Heart

“Wren did not see her mother as a sick woman living within a body she no longer knew or controlled. Instead, she saw a pathetic, powerless beast surrounded by murder, a mess of blood and guts. As rage bubbled up and spilled over, Wren sharpened a pernicious, worded arrow and lobbed it at the bull's-eye, her mother.

"You are a monster."”
― Emily Habeck, Shark Heart

“There goes a stunning butterfly! Metamorphosis!
Fair dinkum! Fair dinkum!”
― Lana M. Rochel, Looking For Your Tribe: Intellectual Poems

“A Krakovian Conversion by Stewart Stafford

Stone columns on my grave;
Gravity no longer tethers me,
Procession for a fallen saviour,
Our charmed lives split apart.

A cuckoo among darkest eagles,
Faustian profiteer's bloody deal,
Became a phoenix dove in flight,
On the road home to my new form.

An unbroken cypher laid to rest,
A muttered debate behind prayers;
Faux Messiah, who saved himself?
Ransoms paid by a bankrupt sage?

© Stewart Stafford, 2024. All rights reserved.”
― Stewart Stafford

“The human soul is like a butterfly it is evaluating trough different levels of metamorphosis or stack...”
― Petur Krustev