Quotes About Self-discovery

I'm not Team Gale or Team Peeta. I'm Team Katniss...the core story in the Hunger Games trilogy has less to do with who Katniss ends up with and more to do with who she is - because sometimes, in books and in life, it's not about the romance. Sometimes, it's about the girl.

I'd spent my whole human life not making waves, hiding what I was, trying not to be noticed. Until now.

That was the first time I'd said that last bit out loud. Toby Hawthorne loved my mother. She loved him. It had been an epic, seaside kind of love. Literally. Just knowing that made me feel like I'd been lying to myself every time I'd pretended that I didn't have feelings, that things didn't have to be messy.

So take whatever time you need. Figure out how you feel. Figure out if Dean makes you feel the way I do, if he'll ever let you in, and if you want him to, because the next time my lips touch yours, the next time your hands are buried in my hair—the only person you're going to be thinking about is me.

I am an expert at not wanting to want things. But I'm starting to realize that the person I need to be, the person I'm becoming—she's not that girl anymore." I'd been given the world. It was time to stop living scared, time to take the reins. It was time to take risks.

Soy una experta en no desear nada. Pero estoy empezando a darme cuenta que la persona que necesito ser, la persona en quien me estoy convirtiendo, ya no es esa chica.

I didn't want to be the glass ballerina or the knife. I wanted to prove, at least to myself, that I was something.

Ruthie had found the idea that we were only a series of neatly constructed puzzle pieces or building blocks vaguely unsettling—even at eight, she wanted there to be more to it than that.

We're all weird and damaged in our own way. You're not the only one.

Before I die, I want to...be the person I'm meant to be and have that be enough.

Everyone in my life is a stranger, and that includes me.

Growing fourteen inches in a summer is easy. It's growing out of a label that's hard.

I like writing, but I like a lot of things. Maybe out of those things, I'm best at writing. Maybe it's what I like best of all. Maybe it's where I've always felt most at home. Or maybe the writing part of me is over. Maybe there's something else I'm supposed to do instead. I don't know.

I'm trying out Theodore Finche, '80s kid, and seeing how he fits. I fish through my desk for a cigarette, stick it in my mouth, and remember as I'm reaching for my lighter that Theodore Finch, '80s kid, doesn't smoke. God, I hate him, the clean-cut, eager little prick.

I'm broken, and no one can fix it. I've tried. I'm still trying. I can't love anyone because it's not fair to anyone who loves me back. I'll never hurt you... But I can't promise I won't pick you apart, piece by piece, until you're in a thousand pieces just like me.

Guys like Ryan Cross have a way of reminding you who you are, even when you don't want to remember.

I grew out of my clothes because, it turns out, growing fourteen inches in a summer is easy. It's growing out of a label that's hard.

I thought of the pieces of me I'd left behind, a piece here, a piece there, scattered like bread crumbs. How much of me was left?

You're actually not a bad guy, Jack Masselin. But I'm not sure you know it yet.

This girl," I tell Rachel. "That's not what I look like. That's not who I am." I have a feeling Rachel will get this because she pretended to be straight all through high school, even though she figured out she was a lesbian when she was in eighth grade. I say it again, "That's not me." Her eyes light up. "Great. Let's see if we can find her.

You know, that's what you've been doing in a way--coming out. Coming out of your room. Coming out of your house. Coming out of your shell.

But tonight I'm telling myself I don't have anything in common with this Violet girl, no matter how much I want to, and asking myself if the words between us were really that hot or if maybe it was just me imagining, me in overdrive for a girl I barely know, all because she's the first person I've met who seems to speak my language.

Writing was what I did best, better than being a daughter or girlfriend or sister. Writing was me.

It's easy to give everyone what they want. What's expected. The problem with doing this is you lose sight of where you truly begin and where the fake you, the one who tries to be everything to everyone, ends.