Quotes About Identity

The soul, he said, is composed Of the external world. There are men of the East, he said, Who are the East. There are men of a province Who are that province. There are men of a valley Who are that valley.

I am and have a being and play a part.

Not less because in purple I descended The western day, through what you called The loneliest air, not less was I myself

I was the world in which I walked, and what I saw Or heard or felt came not but from myself; And there I found myself more truly and more strange.

I certainly do not exist from nine to six, when I am at the office.

Their motto must be "Whiter and whiter every generation," until the grandchildren of the blue veins could easily go over into the white race and become assimilated so that problems of race would plague them no more.

But what are our stories if not the mirrors we hold up to our fears?

The name one gives is inessential. What's in a name? That which we call a rose, by other name would smell as sweet.

When, for instance, we meet a man, we do not look on him as a human being, but we put a label on him, such as English, French, German, American, or Jew, and regard him with all the prejudices associated with that label in our mind. Yet he may be completely free from those attributes which we have put on him.

Mere suffering exists, but no sufferer is found; The deed are, but no doer is found.

T]here is no permanent unchanging spirit which can be considered 'Self' or 'Soul', or 'Ego'.

The more you like yourself, the less you are like anyone else, which makes you unique.

We have met the enemy and they are us!

O Me! O life!... of the questions of these recurring; Of the endless trains of the faithless—of cities fill'd with the foolish; . . . What good amid these, O me, O life? Answer. That you are here—that life exists, and identity; That the powerful play goes on, and you will contribute a verse.

Be not ashamed women, ... You are the gates of the body, and you are the gates of the soul.

One's-Self I sing, a simple separate person,Yet utter the word Democratic, the wordEn-Masse.

There was a child went forth every day,And the first object he look'd upon, that object he became.

I am the poet of the Body and I am the poet of the Soul.

Words! book-words! what are you?

Answer That you are here---that life exists and identity, That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse.

Do I contradict myself Very well then I contradict myself,

The desire to retire is an expression of despair. It means that you have lost your rudder and do not know why you are here or where you are going.

You and I are not what we eat; we are what we think.

There is one thing which no one will permit to be treated lightly—himself.