Quotes About Identity

Just as infinite play cannot be contained within finite play, culture cannot be authentic if held within the boundaries of a society.

Fathering and mothering are roles freely assumed but always with the design of showing them to be theatrical. It is the intention of parents in such families to make it plain to their children that they all play cultural and societal roles, that they are only roles, and that they are all truly concrete persons behind them. Therefore, children also learn that they have a family only by choosing to have it, by a collective act to be a family with each other.

Winning a war can be as destructive as losing one, for if boundaries lose their clarity, as they do in a decisive victory, the state loses its identity. Just as Alexander wept upon learning he had no more enemies to conquer, finite players come to rue their victories unless they see them quickly challenged by new danger. A war fought to end all wars, in the strategy of finite play, only breeds universal warfare.

Many people feel like they were born into the wrong family. Nevertheless, adults must take responsiblity for the pain of the past and create a productive life in the present.

All we have left, when all is said and done, is the content of our character and our most cherished relationships.

You...are...a...fridge...with wings,' Fang ground out, punching an Eraser hard with every word. 'We're...freaking...ballet...dancers.

Did you know that wasn't me, the other Max?" I asked. "Yeah." "When?" "Right away." "How?" I persisted. "We look identical. She even had identical scars and scratches. She was wearing my clothes. How could you tell us apart?" He turned to me and grinned, making my world brighter. "She offered to cook breakfast.

They turned to Angel. "We will call you Little One," the leader said, obviously deciding to dispense with the whole confusing name thing. "Okay," said Angel agreeably. "I'll call you Guy in a White Lab Coat." He frowned. "That can be his Indian name," I suggested.

You...are...a...fridge...with wings,' Fang ground out, punching an Eraser hard with every word. 'We're...freaking...ballet...dancers.

Like the sky opens after a rainy day we must open to ourselves.... Learn to love yourself for who you are and open so the world can see you shine.

Middle School," Griffin repeated. "Where did they come up with that, anyway? We're in the middle of what, exactly? too old for elementary school, but not big enough for high school. So they shove us here. Look around. There's not an interesting person in sight, just a bunch of clones who want to be like everyone else.

When I came back out five minutes later, even my pet parakeet wouldn't have recognized me. Of course, I didn't have a pet parakeet. But never mind that.

I drew a picture of Bigs Maloney. It came out looking like Frankenstein on a bad hair day. In other words, it looked just like Bigs.

I don't think I'd like it if people liked me, I'd think that something had gone wrong.

The last human of importance the American people have been able to keep in the working end of their brain is your own Chicago triggerman, Dillinger. After him they kind of lost hold on keeping who's who straight. So don't be surprised if they don't remember who Cabot Wright is, or if they do.

Decide very early on: do you want to be an actor or do you want to be famous? Because they're very different routes.

I am not a member of the CIA or any other intelligence agency.

She observed wisely of her cinema alter ego: "Men like me because I don't wear a brassiere. Women like me because I don't look like a girl who would steal a husband. At least not for long.

Je... je bent een meisje!' ... 'Ik ben niet zomaar een meisje,' zei ze. 'Ik ben de dochter van de Glorie van Ra, hij die als een reus over de wereld loopt: de farao Neferhotep, de glorieuze heerser van heel Deshret... Je zou trots moeten zijn,' zei ze, terwijl ze zich met een zwaai van haar gescheurde mantel omdraaide. 'Je bent nu de slaaf van prinses Nefertiti.

Bitter thoughts swept through him. That face had been called many names over the centuries, worn many identities. But after two millennia he had returned to the one his mother had given him. Judas Iscariot.

Who Are the Children of Lehi?" by D. Jeffrey Meldrum and Trent D. Stephens.

Stay true to yourself and listen to your inner voice. It will lead you to your dream.

Every person born into this world their work is born with them.

They talk about their Pilgrim blood, Their birthright high and holy A mountain-stream that ends in mud Methinks is melancholy.