Quotes About Self-discovery

Please do not ever stop asking--no matter what. Keep bothering your brain with unwavering persistence until you find an answer. Go deeper and deeper until you meet with your absolute self, your intrinsic, unalterable true self--your changeless nature. You cannot see or touch it, but you can feel it. If you can feel it, you can utilize and live it. It's a wonderful paradox: only when you have a changeless sense of who you are, can real changes take place.

Who Am I? Why am I here?

When I was your age...I wish I'd known that I already had everything I needed within myself to be happy, instead of looking for happiness at beauty counters.

They say that sometimes a man cannot recognize himself in a looking-glass. It is even harder to recognize oneself in the clouded mirror of the past.

Here and now, I don't want to be Detroit Red. I want to slip the skin of this life, to be new and clean again.

Me, I'd rather be out in that world than stuck in those closed-up ivy halls that weren't meant to fit me.

Myslím, že na místa, kde se odvíjely rozhodující události naÅ¡ich život?, stojí za to ob?as zavítat, abychom zjistili: nemáme sami se sebou nic spole?ného.

If I turn into another, dig me up from under what is covering the better me

There's more than one answer to these questions Pointing me in a crooked line. And the less I seek my source for some definitive The closer I am to fine.

Grenzt hier ein Wort an mich, so lass ich's grenzen. Liegt Böhmen noch am Meer, glaub ich den Meeren wieder. Und glaub ich noch ans Meer, so hoffe ich auf Land. Bin ich's, so ist's ein jeder, der ist soviel wie ich. Ich will nichts mehr für mich. Ich will zugrunde gehen. Zugrund - das heisst zum Meer, dort find ich Böhmen wieder. Zugrund gerichtet, wach ich ruhig auf. Von Grund auf weiss ich jetzt, und ich bin unverloren.

Along with the other losses I've grieved in the past three years, I feel a deep pang of mourning for the death of the woman I used to be.

Do the thing you think you cannot do. ~ Eleanor Roosevelt

I am alone. I am here. No one is watching me. In these hours of silence that I cherish, I talk to myself and reflect. That past, entrenched in time, motionless and infinite, has vanished onto thin air. None of it remains. Why, therefore, am I hurting so much? Why did I bring back with me this nameless pain? I followed the path I set for myself, and I have forgiven. I do not want to be chained to hatred or resentment. I want to have the right to live in peace.

I already knew that I had the ability to free myself from hatred, and I viewed this as my most significant conquest.

[I] asked people to quantify themselves on a scale of one to 100 percent gay, and I watched so many existential crises unfold in front of me. People didn't know what to do, because they had never been presented with the option before.

A chance to sit quietly and find out who you are; where you've been and where you're going.

Gilgi is drifting in the river of superfluous feelings. Superfluous? They were once, they seemed to be once. Isn't she happy? Of course she is. Often. But the hours of happiness come at a high price. The bill is presented promptly. Pay it! With what? With fear and twinges of pain. No, I don't think the price is too high, I just find the currency strange. Fear - pain! To whom should I pay them? Who profits from this odd currency?

And I bought myself a thick black notebook and cut some doves out of white paper and stuck them on the cover, and now I'm looking for a beginning. My name is Doris, and I'm baptized and Christian, and born too. We are living in the year 1931. Tomorrow, I'll write more.

By walking I found out Where I was going. By intensely hating, how to love. By loving, whom and what to love. By grieving, how to laugh from the belly. Out of infirmity, I have built strength. Out of untruth, truth. From hypocrisy, I wove directness. Almost now I know who I am. Almost I have the boldness to be that man. Another step And I shall be where I started from.

She was at the age when she was starting to realize that her quirks weren't just an adolescent stage or a phase, they were who she was.

My purpose on this planet is to live up to my potential, everything else just adds to the experience.

Nobody ever told me what to read, or ever put poetry in my way.

The fact that I am a writer comes from the experience of being cut away from my roots and living in Venezuela, where I couldn't find a place for myself, for years and years.

In your eyes I see myself become what I always dreamed I could be.