Quotes About Individuality

The human being is a most curious creature. He thinks he has got one soul, and he has got dozens.

Any woman who doesn't have a little bit of whore in her is pretty much a dried up stick.

After you fail, which I have, you can either choose to crumble and retreat and become nonfunctional, which I've seen happen, or you can just become a lone wolf, forget about the cool kids and just continue to do your own thing.

Li Pin Chu tells them that if he could eat one dish every day for the rest of his life it would be sliced pork and egg in palm sugar. Han says he would enjoy some chicken stewed in onion yogurt sauce. Sirine thinks she might like some reheated spaghetti and meatballs- a breakfast that her mother used to make from the previous night's dinner.

Once you've chosen a man, don't try to change him', I wrote with more confidence. 'It can't be done. More important-don't let him try to change you.

You invent yourself...You look at other women-or men; you try on their lives for size. You take what you can use, and you look inside yourself for what you can't find elsewhere. And always...always...you wonder if you're doing it right.

When a man dies, it's only him," he said. "And one is much like another. Aye, a family needs a man, to feed them, protect them. But any decent man can do it. A woman Ã¢â'¬Â¦Ã¢â'¬Â His lips moved against my fingertips, a faint smile. "A woman takes life with her when she goes. A woman is Ã¢â'¬Â¦ infinite possibility." "Idiot," I said, very softly. "If you think one man is just like any other.

when had the right to live as one wished ever been considered trivial?

I think it's as though everyone has a small place inside themselves, maybe, a private bit that they keep to themselves. It's like a little fortress, where the most private part of you lives - maybe it's your soul, maybe just that bit makes you yourself and not anyone else. You don't usually show that bit of yourself to anyone, usually, unless sometimes to someone that ye love greatly.

think it's as though everyone has a small place inside themselves, maybe, a private bit that they keep to themselves. It's like a little fortress, where the most private part of you lives—maybe it's your soul, maybe just that bit that makes you yourself and not anyone else.

and if she wasn't precisely pretty, she had a force of character that is often more attractive than simple beauty.

To stand against a crowd would take something more than ordinary courage; something that went beyond human instinct. And I feared I did not have it, and fearing, was ashamed.

But from the very start, there is that small streak of steel within each child. That thing that says "I am," and forms the core of personality.

It's like a little fortress, where the most private part of you lives - maybe it's your soul, maybe just that bit that makes you yourself and not anyone else.

Doom, or save. That I cannot do. For I have no power beyond that of knowledge, no ability to bend others to my will, no way to stop them doing what they will. There is only me.

To stand against a crowd would take something more than ordinary courage; something that went beyond human instinct.

What I meant is that he has Ã¢â'¬Â¦Ã¢â'¬Â He hesitated, not quite sure how to put it into words. "… a sense of himself that is quite separate from what society demands. He is inclined to make his own rules.

Your husband should tan ye, woman," said an austere voice from the blackness under a tree. "St. Paul says 'Let a woman be silent, and—' " "You can mind your own bloody business," I snarled, sweat dripping behind my ears, "and so can St. Paul.

And that knowledge, bred in the bone, is what lies behind mob rule. Because to step outside the group, let alone to stand against it, was for uncounted thousands of years death to the creature who dared it. To stand against a crowd would take something more than ordinary courage; something that went beyond human instinct. And I feared I did not have it, and fearing, was ashamed. It

This is the grimoire of the witch, Geillis. It is a witch's name, and I take it for my own; what I was born does not matter, only what I will make of myself, only what I will become. And

me gustaría pensar que no soy como <> y que mi comportamiento no se ajusta al común de los mortales

Why, the lines of your palm show what ye are, dear. That's why they change—or should. They don't, in some people; those unlucky enough never to change in themselves, but there are few like that.

It's Ã¢â'¬Â¦ difficult to explain. It's Ã¢â'¬Â¦ it's like Ã¢â'¬Â¦ I think it's as though everyone has a small place inside themselves, maybe, a private bit that they keep to themselves. It's like a little fortress, where the most private part of you lives—maybe it's your soul, maybe just that bit that makes you yourself and not anyone else.

Because to step outside the group, let alone to stand against it was for uncounted thousands of years death to the creature who dared it. To stand against a crowd would take something more than ordinary courage; something that went beyond human instinct. And I feared I did not have it, and fearing, was ashamed.