Quotes About Individuality

I don't want to go among mad people," Alice remarked. "Oh, you can't help that," said the Cat: "we're all mad here. I'm mad. You're mad." "How do you know I'm mad?" said Alice. "You must be," said the Cat, "or you wouldn't have come here.

Las mejores personas estan completamente locas

Habla en francés siempre que no encuentres la palabra en inglés para nombrar alguna cosa, saca ligeramente los dedos de los pies al andar y ¡Recuerda siempre quién eres!.

You may have noticed that I'm not all there myself.

Pero yo no quiero ir adonde hay locos -dijo Alicia. - Oh, esos es inevitable -dijo el Gato-; aquí todos estamos locos. Yo estoy loco. Tu estás loca. - ¿Y usted cómo sabe que yo estoy loca? -preguntó Alicia. - Tienes que estarlo -dijo el Gato -; si no, no habrías venido aquí.

But I don't WANT to go among mad people!

Qui siamo tutti matti. Io sono matto. Tu sei matta. Come lo sai che sono matta? disse Alice. Altrimenti non saresti venuta qui, disse il Gatto.

I am not strange, weird, off, not crazy, my reality is just different from yours.

Creo que si, que has perdido la cabez, estás completamente loco. Pero te diré un secreto: las mejores personas lo están. (Sombrerero).

I am not about to say that what I put in my body has nothing whatsoever to do with my health, but I suddenly am surrounded by a world of health experts, and it gets tiresome. "You're eating a greasy cheeseburger, a man in your condition!" Deliver me. We'd all be a lot happier if we lived our own lives and allowed the son of a bitch down the street to live his. I just can't put it any more simply or directly than that.

It is not a simple life to be a single cell, although I have no right to say so, having been a single cell so long ago myself that I have no memory at all of that stage in my life.

Minnows and catfish can recognize each member of their own species by his particular, person-specific odor. It is hard to imagine a solitary, independent, existentialist minnow, recognizable for himself alone; minnows in a school behave like interchangeable, identical parts of an organism. But there it is.

I'm like everyone else in this stupid, bloody, amazing world. I'm flawed. Impossibly so. But hopeful. I'm still me.

No one asks how or what I am doing. They could not care less. We're all looking glasses, we girls, existing only to reflect their images back to them as they'd like to be seen. Hollow vessels of girls to be rinsed of our own ambitions, wants, and opinions, just waiting to be filled with the cool, tepid water of gracious compliance. A fissure forms in the vessel. I'm cracking open.

I wish to live for myself. I should never want to be trapped.

I love you for who you are, not who the world thinks you should be.

But...you could have whatever you wished. Exactly, he says, nuzzling my neck. But, I say, you could turn stones to rubies or ride in a fine gentleman's carriage. Kartik puts his hands on either side of my face. To each his own magic, he says and kisses me again.

Because 'You're perfect just the way you are,' is what your guidance counselor says. And she's an alcoholic.

Weren't you wearing a purity ring when we got here? Aren't you supposed to be saving yourself? Shanti asked. Yeah, Mary Lou answered. And then I thought, for what? You save leftovers. My sex is not a leftover, and it is not a Christmas present.

To each his own magic.

I'm an oddity of one, my strangeness too complicated to explain or share.

You've been assigned an identity since birth. Then you spend the rest of your life walking around in it to see if it really fits. You try on all these different selves and abandon just as many. But really it's about dismantling all that false armor, getting down to what's real.

The world expected girls to pluck and primp and put on heels. Meanwhile, boys dressed in rumpled T-shirts and baggy pants and misplace their combs, and yet you were suppose to fall at their feet? Unacceptable.

I don't care. If I like somebody, I like her, and that's that." He thumped his chest and made a scowly face. "Let 'em come for me. I will stare down the mob with their pitchforks! I will make a speech about tolerance and love. I will tell them the folly of their ways! And then I will grab your hand and run like hell because, Jesus, a mob with pitchforks?