Quotes About Self

He'd lost track of what he wanted, and since who a person was was what a person wanted, you could say that he'd lost track of himself.

You wake up one day and realize you are a different person. That seems to be how life happens, how it establishes its patterns. The adult becomes a stranger to the boy he used to be. You become distant from everybody, especially yourself, even if, in the secrecy of your heart, you feel mostly unchanged.

You discovered yourself and what really mattered only after you passed through the lens of the fairy tale, imposed on every human female and male alike, that someone existed out in the forest of the world for you to love and marry.

Yeah, maybe you look a little less familiar yourself.

Then again, the story does involve a missing person, and it could well be me. Or you, or practically anybody. As he said to me once, who's not missing?

We're each alone inside our heads, some more so than others.

It's easier to be a character in a story than the star of your own tragedy.

And she had discovered the best reason, the one that trumps all others: She did it because she liked the way it made her feel. Is

I never confused what I had with what I was.

It's so hard to express yourself.' I understand this.' I want to express myself.' The same is true for me.' I'm looking for my voice.' It's in your mouth.' I want to do something I'm not ashamed of.' Something you are proud of, yes?' Not even. I just don't want to be ashamed.

I shook my tambourine the whole time, because it helped me remember that even though I was going through different neighborhoods, I was still me.

If I'd been someone else in a different world I'd've done something different, but I was myself and the world was the world, so I was silent.

We burned with love for ourselves, all of us, starters of the fire we suffered- our love was the affliction for which only our love was the cure.

Love itself became the object of her love. She loved herself in love, she loved loving love, as love loves loving, and was able, in that way, to reconcile herself with a world that fell so short of what she would have hoped for.

My insides don't match up with my outsides. -Do anyone's inside and outsides match up? -I don't know. I'm only me. -Maybe that's what a person's personality is: the difference between the inside and the outside.

Our stories are so fundamental to us that it's easy to forget that we choose them.

I've thought myself out of happinessone one million times, but never once into it.

Maybe that's what a person's personality is: the difference between the inside and outside.

Like you, I think of myself as many things, as if the thinking made it so. In the meantime, while I think - while you think, while we think - our actions and inactions create and destroy the world.

I'd left behind a thousand tons of marble, I could have released sculptures, I could have released myself from the marble of myself. I'd experienced joy, but not nearly enough, could there be enough?

Is this why you think you are chosen by God, because only you can understand the funnies that you make about yourself?

she saw through the shell of me into the center of me … She went home with her father, the center of me followed her, but I was left with the shell of me

I said, not knowing what the next words out of my mouth would be, but wanting them to be mine, wanting, more than I'd ever wanted anything, to express the center of me to and be understood.

In the struggle between yourself and the world, side with the world.