Quotes About Self

I started writing to please myself, a story I would like to read, and that is still true.

It wasn't exultation she felt, not the excitement of a first kill or even the satisfaction of overcoming a powerful beast. It was something deeper, more humbling. It was the knowledge that she had overcome herself.

We only become what we are by the radical and deep-seated refusal of that which others have made of us.

Es el reflejo de mi rostro. A menudo en estos días perdidos, me quedo contemplándolo. No comprendo nada de este rostro. Los de los demás tienen un sentido. El mío, no.

My existence was beginning to cause me serious concern. Was I a mere figment of the imagination?

Es kommt nicht darauf an, was man aus uns gemacht hat, sondern darauf, was wir aus dem machen, was man aus uns gemacht hat.

A mo?e nikt nie rozumie w?asnej twarzy?

I do not think therefore I am a moustache

Un Hombre es todo lo que hace, con lo que hicieron de el.

Un hombe es lo que hace, con lo que hicieron de el.

La libertad es lo q haces con lo q está hecho para ti

And yet-I wonder. Love or hatred calls for self-surrender. He cuts a fine figure, the warm-blooded, prosperous man, solidly entrenched in his well-being, who one fine day surrenders all to love-or to hatred; himself, his house, his land, his memories.

Creo que soy yo el que ha cambiado, es la solución más simple, también la más desagradable

El pasado es un lujo de propietario. ¿Dónde podría conservar yo el mío? Nadie se mete el pasado en el bolsillo; hay que tener una casa para acomodarlo. Mi cuerpo es lo único que poseo; un hombre solo, con su cuerpo, no puede detener los recuerdos; pasan a través de él. No debería quejarme: sólo he querido ser libre.

De improviso se me aparece la verdad: este hombre morirá pronto. Seguramente lo sabe; basta con que se haya mirado en un espejo; cada día se parece un poco más al cadáver que será.

So darned easy to plot that - and always at the last moment - one is afraid. Or cheats oneself with hope.

Bertha is not my name. You are trying to make me into someone else, calling me by another name. I know, that's obeah too.

Mais c'était des voyages d'aveugles, je veux dire des voyages où je restais emprisonné dans mon univers intérieur

But I see in the clothes a symbol of continuing life. And proof that I still want to be myself. If I must drool, I may as well drool on cashmere.

Sad state to spend your life in. Being afraid of your own self. Rex Walls, The Glass Castle

I've always tried to make a home for myself, but I have not felt at home in myself. I've worked hard at being the hero of my own life. But every time I checked the register of displaced persons, I was still on it. I didn't know how to belong. Longing? Yes. Belonging? No.

After loss of Identity, the most potent modern terror, is loss of sexuality, or, as Descartes didn't say, I fuck therefore I am.

If I let them take away my demons, I'll have to give up what I've found.

It's only a story, you say. So it is, and the rest of life with it - creation story, love story, horror, crime, the strange story of you and I. The alphabet of my DNA shapes certain words, but the story is not told. I have to tell it myself. What is it that I have to tell myself again and again? That there is always a new beginning, a different end. I can change the story. I am the story. Begin.