Quotes About Self-perception

I always thought of myself as a moderate liberal, a fighter for peace and justice. I never thought of myself as being all that far out.

My friends kidded me about going so far on such modest talent. I always agreed with them. I had no illusions about my films, nor did I consider myself anything special as an actor or a singer.

I have no concept of modesty anymore.

My mom was one of the moms who was like, 'You are so handsome why aren't you modeling? I am handsome, but model... let's not get crazy.

I'm not an acting monk or anything. I'm not, like, the most well-adjusted actor.

Because I'm so big, you have to look at me. I think of myself as a monument. But sometimes I like to feel small.

I wouldn't live with me, believe me. I'm moody.

I always thought I had a face like the moon, because I had really chubby cheeks when I was a kid, right up until my mid-20s. My face changed in my later 20s and again in my mid-30s.

Bizarrely, I actually feel safer the older I get, like people will expect less from me, and I can become more and more invisible, yet more and more eccentric.

I don't consider myself a great actress. I'm just trying to stay alive, actually. I think I'm good, and I've learned a lot, certainly, mostly in the theater. I've been sloughed off movies for years. But what can you do? That's life.

I don't feel like a star; I never have. I don't feel like a star; I never have. I always feel like I'm the young one, I'm the small one. I always have someone to look up to, and I think it helps me with motivating myself.

It is extremely dangerous to encourage people to see themselves as exceptional, whatever the motivation.

He had an opinion of himself, I think, that was too high for his own good. Or maybe it was the reverse. Maybe it was a low opinion that he kept trying to erase.

She was still glad she looked like Scully. He wasn't pretty either, but pretty people weren't the kind you need. Pretty people saw themselves in the mirror and were either too happy or too sad. People like Billie just shrugged and didn't care. She didn't want to turn into anyone pretty. Anyway, she had scars now, you only had to look.

Because I did not know who I was, any image of myself, no matter how grotesque, had power over me.

The judgment of history was ultimately less important than what he'd judge of himself, looking in the mirror every morning at not enough. The real prison was, and would always be, himself.

A face is a kind of a mask anyway, when you think about it, he said. Rudd took a drink and set the glass down. You should never ask Pierre anything. You don't make your face, said Pierre. It's given to you. You might think it represents your true self, but why would it? Half the time you make an expression and think, Oh, this is my whatever expression, and nobody even knows what you're thinking.

Okay, it is what it is and I am what I it, but its isness and my itness seem to be stretching the meaning of is and it.

Only her tight, tight eyes were left. They were always left...They were everything. Everything was there, in them...Thrown, in this way, into the binding conviction that only a miracle could relieve her, she would never know her beauty. She would see only what there was to see: the eyes of other people.

It had occurred to Pecola some time ago that if her eyes, those eyes that held the pictures, and knew the sights—if those eyes of hers were different, that is to say, beautiful, she herself would be different.

She talked like that. But I understood what she meant. About having another you inside that isn't anything like you. Dorcas and I used to make up love scenes and describe them to each other. It was fun and a little smutty. Something about it bothered me, though. Not the loving stuff, but the picture I had of myself when I did it. Nothing like me. I say myself as somebody I'd seen in a picture show or a magazine. Then it would work. If I pictured myself the way I am it seemed wrong.

He had a flattering view of me as someone interesting, capable, witty, smart, high-spirited. I did not share that view of myself, and wondered why he held it. But it was the death of that girl - the one who lived in his head - that I mourned when he died. Even more than I mourned him, I suffered the loss of the person he thought I was.

Thrown, in this way, into the binding conviction that only a miracle could relieve her, she would never know her beauty. She would only see what there was to see: the eyes of other people.

Thrown, in this way, into the binding conviction that only a miracle could save her, she would never know her beauty. She would see only what there was to see: the eyes of other people.