Quotes About Identity

People did not change their basic, core personalities. Their values tended to stay the same.

Every place always has somebody who doesn't fit in. That's what makes them fit in.

Men can always reinvent themselves," Laura said. "For women, once you're a mother, you're always a mother.

Suddenly, quite miraculously, you are a grown-up beautiful woman. You look so much like your mother, but you are still uniquely you. You have thoughts I will never know. Desires I will never understand. Friends I will never meet. Passions I will never share. You have a life. You have an entire world in front of you.

Only...ever...you.

You are magnificent because you are so uniquely you

What a rapist takes from a woman is her future. The person she is going to become, who she is supposed to be, is gone. In many ways, it's worse than murder, because he has killed that potential person, eradicated that potential life, yet she still lives and breathes, and has to figure out another way to thrive." He waved his hand in the air. "Or not, in some cases.

She recited the only prayer Laura had ever taught her. "God grant me the confidence of a mediocre white man.

Her birthday was yesterday, August twentieth. Why had Laura said that she was born in January? 6 Andy drove up and down what seemed like the city of Carrollton's main drag.

People did not change their basic, core personalities. Their values tended to stay the same. Their personal demeanors. Their world outlook and political beliefs. One need only go to a high school reunion to verify the theory.

herself, but what would she find? A kept woman who was incapable

There was one lone Caucasian in the bunch. With her hemp sandals, batik dress and the long, gray ponytail hanging down her back, she radiated white guilt like a cheap space heater.

Used to be, only bikers and outlaws had tattoos. They were so commonplace now that they weren't even a statement. Unless the statement was, "Look, I'm like everybody else." Her

Even this far into the game, Leigh was always surprised by how fantastic it was to be a white, wealthy man.

birth certificate and death certificate, both issued in Cook County, Illinois. Laura's various diplomas, her birth certificate from Rhode Island, her social security card, her driver's license. Andrea Eloise Mitchell's record of live birth dated August 20, 1987. The deed to the Belle Isle house. Immunization records. Marriage license. Divorce decree. Car titles. Insurance cards. Bank statements. Credit card statements.

Laura was not a lonely teenaged girl anymore. She was fifty-five years old. She was a mother, a cancer survivor, a businesswoman. This was her life, Not Nick

you cannot fight a man's history.

He had never brought home a school report and watched his mother smile. The clay ashtray he'd made in kindergarten had been one of sixteen Mrs. Flannigan received on Mother's Day. All the Christmas gifts under the tree were labeled "for a girl" or "for a boy." The evening Will graduated high school, he'd looked out at the crowd of cheering families and seen only strangers.

I told her, "I'm Wayne, and this is—

It was a triptych, three canvases hinged together to make one image when it was open, another image when it was closed. He had always assumed she liked the duplicity of the piece. It was just like Angie, one thing inside, another out. Just like Michael Ormewood, come to think of it. What a perfect pair.

For some reason, he still felt (the same), like (incident) had happened to another (name), his mind going there while his body stayed on the outside, not aging, waiting for him to come back and claim it.

You were still trying to figure out what to do with all the rage and lust and anger that sparked up like a forest fire for no reason. Will had been exactly like them at that age—so damn desperate for someone to show him how to be a man.

God grant me the confidence of a mediocre white man.

Change tells you who you really are.