Quotes About Otherness

I am part-demon, part-human. What else does that make me? She answered his question with one of her own. I am part-centaur, part-human. Does that make me a mutant? It makes you a miracle. She held his gaze. Exactly.

What a strange girl you are." "Why?" "Flung out of space

Yes, Therese said. What a strange girl you are. Why? Flung out of space, Carol said.

The most intractable cause of genocidal killings emerges when competing groups—ethnic, religious, class, or ideological—feel that the very presence of the other, of the enemy, so sullies the environment that normal life is not possible as long as they exist.

It is a great shock at the age of five or six to find that in a world of Gary Coopers you are the Indian.

He's quite horrible, Virek, I think . . ." Marly hesitated. "Quite likely," Andrea said, taking another sip of coffee. "Do you expect anyone that wealthy to be a nice, normal sort?" "I felt, at one point, that he wasn't quite human. Felt that very strongly.

We have to face it at last. We're not all human.

Softly, surrounded by a fringe of inquisitive bright creatures, itself a silver shape beneath the steadfast constellations, Simon's dead body moved out towards the open sea.

Le mystère de l'Autre se trouve résolu. L'Autre c'est celui que l'Un désigne comme tel. L'Un c'est celui qui a le pouvoir de distinguer, de dire qui est qui : qui est « Un », faisant partie du « Nous », et qui est « Autre » et n'en fait pas partie ; celui qui a le pouvoir de cataloguer, de classer, bref de nommer. (p. 19)

I yearned for these other worlds where magic empowers people who understood it because I wanted to change my world, my place in it. I wanted to either be more visible, seen for who I am in my entirety and respected for it... or else I wanted to be even more invisible, protected from a world that would attempt to destroy me if others knew I was unlike them. That I was other. That I was queer

What else is there to do here- or anywhere in nature- but to indulge the awareness of your senses, observe, the instructive otherness that lies just beyond- or is it within - the beauty of nature, and improve your understanding of the world around you and of yourself as an observing being?

It's not evil that separates Earth and Ingo; it's difference. But there are plenty who want to make evil out of difference.

She knows her place, she sure does know her place. There's something ghostlike about this girl . . .

The Western impression of Africa and Asia was that they were hazardous and uncivilized, full of gargantuan lizards, men with the heads of dogs, eels many hundreds of feet long, and creatures like the monoceros, which was alleged to have a stag's head, the body of a horse, and feet like an elephant's. The

From the very beginning, "witch" has been a synonym for "the Other." Witches are women when the cultural norm is male; they are pagan when the cultural norm is Christian; they are spiritual when the cultural norm is materialist; they become a religion as the cultural norm turns secular; they are healers when anxiety about the medical establishment is an issue; they are environmentalists when big business has bought the government; they are magic in the world of science.

The radical otherness of birds is integral to their beauty and their value. They are always among us but never of us. Their indifference to us ought to serve as a chastening reminder that we're not the measure of all things.

It is no longer a question of killing, of devouring or seducing the Other, of facing him, of competing with him, of loving or hating the Other. It is first of all a matter of producing the Other. The Other is no longer an object of passion but an object of production. Maybe it is because the Other, in his radical otherness, or in his irreducible singularity, has become dangerous or unbearable.

It is by no means clear that the other exists for everyone. Does the other exist for the Savage or the Primitive? Some relationships are asymmetrical: the one may be the other for the other without this implying that the other is the other for the one. I may be other for him even though he is not the other for me.

A clone is not a child, not a twin, not a narcissistic reflection; rather, it is the materialization of a double by genetic means - in other words, the abolition of all otherness and of the entire imaginary sphere.

The Other should be a glorious, not a pitiful Other, an object of admiration not of commiseration, the object of a challenge, not that interactive, democratic Other which is not even really your equal. The Other exists more intensely in the dual relation, in rivalry and challenge, than in interaction, conviviality and cosy multiculturalism.

The appearance of the other in the world corresponds therefore to a congealed sliding of the whole universe.

But no: he was empty, he was confronted by a vast anger, a desperate anger, he saw it and could almost have touched it. But it was inert - if it were to live and find expression and suffer, he must lend it his own body. It was other people's anger. Swine! He clenched his fists, he strode along, but nothing came, the anger remained external to himself.

The Other is the hidden death of my possibilities.

How far away from them I feel, up on this hill. It seems to me that I belong to another species.