We are all butterflies. Earth is our chrysalis.
LeeAnn TaylorTag: life inspirational learning god change heaven mortality angels earth transcendence becoming transformation butterflies butterfly planet being become chrysalis metamorphosis spiritual-path spiritual-progression
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.
Tag: love inspiration beauty nature environmentalism evolution transformation tao-te-ching metamorphosis lao-tze the-eternal the-tao
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 DalíTag: art america travel metamorphosis dali
Gregor's glance then turned to the window. The dreary weather—the
rain drops were falling audibly down on the metal window
ledge—made him quite melancholy.
Tag: metamorphosis
Nothing ever really goes away--it just changes into something else. Something beautiful.
Sarah OcklerTag: inspirational metamorphosis
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 CarterTag: transformation metamorphosis the-bloody-chamber the-tigers-bride
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.
María Virginia FarinangoTag: water metamorphosis
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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.
Tag: humor metamorphosis noel devon-ashley
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 ComnenaTag: grief metamorphosis
Metamorphosis is the most profound of all acts.
Catherynne M. ValenteTag: metamorphosis
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