Quotes About Self-awareness

Isn't it nice," the older lady said, leaning in so that only Penelope could hear her words, "to discover that we're not exactly what we thought we were?

What happened?' 'He humiliated me.' 'Oh, my Lord, Belle. He didn't...' 'No. But I wish I had. Then he'd have to marry me, and I-' 'Belle, you don't know what you're saying.' 'I know exactly what I'm saying! Why is it that no one can credit me with the ability to know my own mind?

He was discovering that may be there was more him than his name. And may be, when all was said and done, he'd still be whole.

She'd worn that color, or gray in its place, for three years now. And unrelenting black for a year before that. It had been a bit of a badge, she realized, a uniform of sorts. One never had to worry about who one was when one's clothing proclaimed it so loudly.

I won't offer you a penny for your thoughts, since I know they can't possibly be worth that much, but what are you thinking about?

Isn't it nice to discover that we're not exactly what we thought we were?

Hombres. El día que aprendieran a aceptar un error, se convertirían en mujeres.

Nothing had the power to irritate like the reflection of one's own behavior in someone else.

Blond hair, not too blond. Blue eyes—again, not too blue. Awkwardly shaped mouth that never quite held still the way she wanted it to, and the same nondescript nose with the same seven freckles, including the one close to her eye that no one ever noticed but her. It looked like Ireland. She didn't know why that interested her, but it always had.

Some things were beyond her reach. In her sheltered life, she'd never realized that until now. She hadn't expected the world to be handed to her upon a golden platter, but she'd always assumed that if she worked hard enough for something, treated everyone the way she would like to be treated, then she would be rewarded.

And it occurred to her that for a woman who opened her mouth every other second, there was an awful lot inside of her that she'd never shared.

If one was always at the eye of the proverbial storm, could one discern the slant of the rain, feel the bite of the wind? Maybe she was a wallflower. There was no shame in that. Especially not if one enjoyed being a wallflower.

I think I'm a lot more complicated than my looks might indicate.

Am I completely indifferent to criticism? No, not at all. But I know who I am and I have learned to respect and care for who I am.

I looked at myself, and I just said, 'Well, you know, I can sing, but I'm not the greatest singer in the world. I can play guitar very well, but I'm not the greatest guitar player in the world.' So I said, 'Well, if I'm going to project an individuality, it's going to have to be in my writing.'

For myself, I do not now know in any concrete human terms wherein my individuality consists. In my present human form of consciousness I simply cannot tell.

I have started exploring my own life and have started valuing myself. I have started valuing my individuality.

I just want to find my individuality.

I'm definitely an indoor kid who's turned into an inside person.

Usually, autobiography is such an indulgence of the ego.

People look at me and think I am an expert in the automobile industry, and I'm not.

Everybody's got the things that are crap about them, and that's inescapable because we're a product of our environment and our environment isn't always great.

We are all human and all make mistakes, sometimes we hurt the ones we love and inevitably, ourselves in the process.

There's a huge number of people I'm inevitably responsible towards but my biggest responsibility is towards myself. I need to be happy with what I am doing.