Quotes About Individuality

I will go to the Ring of Sacred Volcanoes, but I shall go not as a member of the MacHeath clan — no, I shall go as a free runner. I reject you. I deny you, I refuse and repudiate you as my clan.

To belong did not mean ownership. You were not someone's property. The "be" syllable was about existence: "to be" yourself and "to be" in a special place that no one else could occupy within your family except you. The "long" part was about the heart, a place in the heart where a family met and lived together. They didn't just put up with each other. They longed for each other. To belong was not a state of mind but a state of heart.

Education,' one of R's teachers taught, 'teaches you not to be yourself.' But who is yourself? R decided if it or he wasn't blood, it wasn't anything.

Every day a sharp tool, a powerful destroyer, is necessary to cut away dullness, lobotomy, buzzing, belief in human beings, stagnancy, images, and accumulation. As soon as we stop believing in human beings, rather know we are dogs and trees, we'll start to be happy.

as if l was pitch black and everyone else, pastel

Glory be to those humans that are absolutely NOTHING for the opinions of other humans: they are the true owners of illusions, transformations, and themselves." NYC in 1979

Glory be to those humans that are absolutely NOTHING for the opinions of other humans: they are the true owners of illusions, transformations, and themselves.

glory be to those humans who are absolutely NOTHING for the opinions of other humans: they are the true owners of illusions, transformations and themselves

Because of Warhol, we were no longer freaks, outside society. It's really partly because of Warhol that I can now get angry when people treat me as an outsider, as in Brisbane char Nicholas Zurbrugg, tattooed and pierced, because of Warhol (to begin with) I don't even have to think to reply, if you think chat, you're the freak. I am society as much as you.

I'm sick of this society. 'Earn a living' as if I'm not yet living; lobotomized and robotized from birth, they tell me I can't do anything I want to do in the subtlest and sneakiest ways possible.

It's not my fault that the gray of everyone else's stories makes the color stand out.

Be self-confident. Don't let others take the bread

Not only in private, but in politics, too.

How easy it is to miss the gift of who we are, because we're so busy trying to become somebody else. Maybe all I really need to do- all anyone needs to do- is trust in what we love and continue to do that.

I still struggle with the belief that I should be producing something more tangible or useful in the world. 'You should do work that makes a real difference,' scolds the voice in my head.... I worried I was being self- indulgent, spending hour after hour engaged in the slow, halting process of moving from experience to thought to word. What, really, was the point? Why would anyone else care? Why should I? I am coming to believe that there is room in the world for all our stories.

As time goes on, I find myself caring less about fitting in, and more about nurturing those relationships that fit who I truly am.

El tiempo pasó. Pero el tiempo se divide en muchas corrientes. Como en un rio, hay una corriente central rapida en algunos sectores y lenta, hasta inmóvil, en otros. El tiempo cósmico es igual para todos, pero el tiempo humano difiere con cada persona. El tiempo corre de la misma manera para todos los seres humanos; pero todo ser humano flota de distinta manera en el tiempo.

or there, since few perfect examples

Each way to suicide is its own: intensely private, unknowable, and terrible. Suicide will have seemed to its perpetrator the last and best of bad possibilities, and any attempt by the living to chart this final terrain of a life can be only a sketch, maddeningly incomplete.

We each move within the restraints of our temperament and live up only partially to its possibilities.

It was a tribute to my ability to present an image so at variance with what I felt that few noticed I was in any way different.

We are all, as Byron put it, differently organized.

People say, when I complain of being less lively, less energetic, less high-spirited, "Well, now you're just like the rest of us," meaning, among other things, to be reassuring. But I compare myself with my former self, not with others.

Do we risk making the world a blander, more homogenized place if we get rid of the genes for manic-depressive illness