Quotes About Self

Man muss fähig sein, sowohl eine öffentliche Rolle, als auch ein inneres Selbst durchzuhalten; denn durch die öffentliche Rolle manifestiert sich das innere selbst als etwas "völlig Idiosynkratisches und undefinierbares, aber doch unmißverständlich Identifizierbares, sodass wir nicht durch einen plötzlichen Rollenwechsel verwirrt werden.

I should not dare to call my soul my own.

Her neural pattern must remain intact for the time being, as it was still necessary that she stay herself. Changes to her identity would eventually become inevitable, but those would have to wait until she no longer needed the cloak of who she was.

Was this what having an identity felt like? Was this being someone? Feeling like there was a core of who you were beyond which you could not be altered? Feeling . . . continuity. Feeling like you existed as a real, solid thing, apart from your trauma.

Whose judgment do you think he faces, if not his own?

You aren't you. You aren't the you you were this morning. Your consciousness provides a semblance of continuity, but if you've been an infinite number between then and now.

How much of you has to die before you stop being you and become somebody else?

I woke early, ship's time, alone in my bunk and wearing the kind of bad attitude that takes you hate living in your own skin.

He smiled to himself, and quickly dropped his head to hide that smile behind his hood and the fall of his hair. If his own work wouldn't do to hold him together through this, he knew the play that would.

I was raised in a clade. There is no real me.

Unless something remarkable had changed, he wore spiky, kinky sandy-auburn braids a shade darker than his freckled skin and a shade paler than his light-catching eyes.

Tomorrow, I won't have to worry about not being real anymore.

Will told himself a raven could not smirk.

You've got a key inside you, and you don't even know it.

I didn't want to reinvent myself again. Even if hanging on to myself hurt.

Your thoughts are as squishy as the rest of you.

Was this what having an identity felt like? Was this being someone? Feeling like there was a core of who you were beyond which you could not be altered?

I think you did try to save him for you loved him. And he failed to be saved because he loved himself.

I'd had a taste of living for myself, and I could not go back to living entirely for others again.

Because I don't trust myself to make those decisions was not the sort of vulnerability you revealed to an enemy.

Home-made, home-made! But aren't we all?

This iceberg cuts its facets from within.Like jewelry from a graveit saves itself perpetually and adornsOnly itself.

You are you and you are going to be YOU forever.

The way one is envisaged by other people - what easier way is there of envisaging oneself? There is a fatalism in one's acceptance of it. Solitude is not the solution, one feels followed. Choice - choice of those who are to surround one, choice of those most likely to see you rightly - is the only escape.