Quotes About Conformity

Nunca te imagines que eres de otra manera distinta de como a los demás les pareces, que lo que fueras o pudieras haber sido no es más distinto de lo que tú habrías sido si a los demás les hubieras parecido distinta.

But 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." ? Alice in Wonderland

Aber ich mag nicht unter verrückte Leuten gehen, bemerkte Alice. Oh, dagegen kann man nichts machen, sagte die Katze; wir sind hier alle verrückt.Ich bin verrückt. Du bist verrückt. Woher weißt du denn, dass ich verrückt bin?, fragte Alice. Du musst es sein, sagte die Katze, sonst wärst du nicht hierhergekommen.

imagine yourself not to be otherwise than what it might appear to others that what you were or might have been was not otherwise than what you had been would have appeared to them to be otherwise.

But 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.

But 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.

Pero es que a mí no me gusta tratar con gente loca —protestó Alicia. —Oh, eso no lo puedes evitar —repuso el Gato—. Aquí todos estamos locos. Yo estoy loco. Tú estás loca. —¿Cómo sabes que yo estoy loca? —preguntó Alicia. —Tienes que estarlo —afirmó el Gato—, o no habrías venido aquí.

Tu cara es idéntica a la de los demás…, ahí, un par de ojos… (señalando su lugar en el aire con el pulgar), la nariz, en el medio, la boca debajo. Siempre igual. En cambio, si tuvieras los dos ojos del mismo lado de la cara, por ejemplo…, o la boca en la frente…, eso sí que sería diferente.

Be what you would seem to be'—or, if you'd like it put more simply—'Never imagine yourself not to be otherwise than what it might appear to others that what you were or might have been was not otherwise than what you had been would have appeared to them to be otherwise.

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.

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!

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.

What do you feel? I've never been asked this question once. None of us has. We aren't supposed to feel. We're British.

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.

Sheep. I'm stuck in a boarding school filled with sheep.

Nobody Wants to be themselves. That's why there's tv. -Ephigenia

I have done what they expected of me. I have curtsied for my Queen and made my debut. This is what I have anticipated eagerly for years. So why do I feel so unsatisfied? Everyone is merry. They haven't a care in the world. And perhaps that is it. How terrible it is to have no cares, no longings. I do not fit. I feel too deeply and want too much.

Everyone seems to want more form me. I am a thoroughly disappointing girl around. I shall wear a scarlet 'D' upon my bosom for all to see so that they will know not to raise their expectations.

Did they find something wanting in you, Gemma, at the party? You didn't speak too freely or behave…strangely?" I grew claws and bayed at the moon. I confessed that I eat the hearts of small children. I told them I like the French.

Gemma, you see how it is. They've planned our entire lives, from what we shall wear to whom we shall marry and where we shall live. It's one lump of sugar in your tea whether you like it or not and you'd best smile even if you're dying deep inside. We're like pretty horses, and just as on horses, they mean to put blinders on us so we can't look left or right but only straight ahead where they would lead. Please, please, please, Gemma, let's not die inside before we have to.

A pair of Blue Noses on the next bench glared their disapproval at Evie's knee-length dress. Evie decided to give them a real show. She hiked her skirt and, humming jauntily, rolled down her stockings, exposing her legs. It had the desired effect on the Blue Noses, who moved down the platform, clucking about the "disgrace of the young." She would not miss this place.

No one had ever said anything like that to Evie. Her parents always wanted to advise or instruct or command. They were good people, but they needed the world to bend to them, to fit into their order of things. Evie had never really quite fit, and when she tried, she'd just pop back out, like a doll squeezed into a too-small box.

We abandon our backboards along with our decorum, racing for the stairs and the promise of freedom, however temporary it may be. Walk! Mrs. Nightwing shouts. When we cannot seem to heed her advice, she bellows after us that we are savages not fit for marriage. She adds that we shall be the shame of the school and something else besides, but we are down the first flight of stairs, and her words cannot touch us.