Quotes About Conformity

I wanted to put my fist through the nearest corporate logo. Idiotic humans don't understand how to be safe, idiotic humans thought every place was like stupid boring Preservation!

Christians become friends with the world when they follow its psychological theories to understand themselves and others and to change behavior. They are friends of the world when they call sinful behavior "mental illness" and sinful habits "diseases.

If most of the time they do and feel and think and watch and eat and drink precisely what everyone else does, are Americans really free? There

No one can worthily speak or hear any Scripture, unless he is touched in conformity with it, so that he feels inwardly what he hears and says outwardly and says, "Ah, this is true!

Gli uomini si vestono di nero e di grigio. Qualcuno osa con colori autunnali e camicie variopinte. E' il problema degli uomini: vogliono essere presi sul serio, quindi pensano di dover far credere che sono privi di fantasia.

Herman Melville's short story, "Bartleby the Scrivener.

Per un attimo penso di non risponderle. Alla fine però lo faccio. Magari non sembrerà granché coerente, ma cerco di spiegare che invidiavo Uman perché sapeva spezzare i vincoli che la vita ci impone. Perché sapeva essere quello che voleva e se ne fregava di cosa gli altri pensavano di lui. Che conoscere Uman mi aveva fatto capire quanto ero diventata prevedibile.

However much we guard ourselves against it, we tend to shape ourselves in the image others have of us. It is not so much the example of others we imitate, as the reflection of ourselves in their eyes and the echo of ourselves in their words.

The people people have for friends You common sense appall But the people people marry Are the queerest folk of all.

Marriage is a wonderful institution...but who wants to live in an institution?

You must kill the Indian in order to save the man! " That was part of trying to escape the hard life. The missions, going to church, dressing and behaving like a wasi?un—that for her was the key which would magically unlock the door leading to the good life, the white life with a white-painted cottage, and a carpet on the floor, a shiny car in the garage, and an industrious, necktie-wearing husband who was not a wino.

I was afraid of all the lost choices I would never be able to make, and that for the rest of my life someone would always be telling me what to do or say or think, even when I had better ideas of my own. I was afraid of never being anything but what suited others and being pushed and prodded until I fit the mold they shoved me into and I forgot who I was and what I wanted.

They placed me on a pedestal from the day I was born! What choice did I have but to be perfect!

It was as if no one noticed my strengths or interests. I was a piece of cheese being shoved into a mold... The last few years, I hadn't measured up in any way, and the more they pushed, molded, and silenced me, the more I wanted to be heard.

I was a piece of cheese being shoved into a mold.

Ik denk dat ik domweg te normaal ben. - Ayesha

Most literature on the culture of adolescence focuses on peer pressure as a negative force. Warnings about the "wrong crowd" read like tornado alerts in parent manuals.... It is a relative term that means different things in different places. In Fort Wayne, for example, the wrong crowd meant hanging out with liberal Democrats. In Connecticut, it meant kids who weren't planning to get a Ph.D. from Yale.

Often we lose our identity trying to please or placate others.

Adolescence is when girls experience social pressure to put aside their authentic selves and to display only a small portion of their gifts.

Now for the first time he realized how important it had been not to admit any alternative to the hard, decent, orthodox choice which need not be regarded as a choice at all; how important not to be different.

I'm sick. It's true. It isn't going to go away. All my life, I've thought that if I just worked hard enough, it would. I've always thought that if I just pulled myself together, I'd be a good person, a calm person, a person like everyone else.

I cannot help but think that, had I lived in a culture where "thinness" was not regarded as a strange state of grace, I might have sought out another means of attaining that grace

The sense that we are only the sum of our parts—whatever we achieve, however we appear, whatever we own, however we try to prove ourselves—is not a good sense. It's an existential crisis: Do I even exist? If you take away the masks I wear, is there only blank space underneath?

In our society those who are in reality superior in intelligence can be accepted by their fellows only if they pretend they are not.