Quotes About Identity

The more she wants to be accepted by the world, the more she's beaten back by her heightened perception of her own difference.

legs which not even orange Keds with purple-glitter-encrusted laces could make unserious. Shy

WE ARE WHAT WE WALK BETWEEN

Step into the skin and disappear.

Like most North Americans of his generation, Hal tends to know way less about why he feels certain ways about the objects and pursuits he's devoted to than he does about the objects and pursuits themselves.

As everyone is well aware, it is so difficult to do something nice for someone and not want them, desperately, to know that the identity of the individual who did it for them was you, and to feel grateful and approving towards you, and to tell myriads of other people what you 'did' for them, so that you can be widely acknowledged as a 'good' person.

Neoclassical Assumptions in Contemporary Prescriptive Grammar," "The Implications of Post-Fourier Transformations for a Holographically Mimetic Cinema," "The Emergence of Heroic Stasis in Broadcast Entertainment" —' ' "Montague Grammar and the Semantics of Physical Modality"?' ' "A Man Who Began to Suspect He Was Made of Glass"?' ' "Tertiary Symbolism in Justinian Erotica"?

In the eighth American-educational grade, Bruce Green fell dreadfully in love with a classmate who had the unlikely name of Mildred Bonk. The name was unlikely because if ever an eighth-grader looked like a Daphne Christianson or a Kimberly St.-Simone or something like that, it was Mildred Bonk.

Forget so-called peer-pressure. It's more like peer-hunger. No? We enter a spiritual puberty where we snap to the fact that the great transcendent horror is loneliness, excluded engagement of the self. Once we've hit this age, we will now give or take anything, wear any mask, to fit, be part-of, not be Alone, we young.

You have wondered perhaps, why all real accountants wear hats? They are today's cowboys

Here is how to read the monthly E.T.A. and U.S.T.A. and O.N.A.N.T.A. rankings the way Himself read scholars' reviews of his multiple-exposure melodramas. Learn to care and not to care. They mean the rankings to help you determine where you are, not who you are. Memorize your monthly rankings, and forget them. Here is how: never tell anyone where you are.

Baby Pictures of Famous Dictators.

But if we can't think ourselves, ... that means we, ourselves, are things that can't think themselves, and so are the proper objects for our thought; we fulfill the game's condition, we are ourselves Other. So if we can think ourselves, we can't; and if we can't; we can. KABLAM, ... There go the old crania.

You just never quite occurred out there, kid,' deLint apprises him.

You just never quite occurred out there, kid.

Americans seemed no longer united so much by common beliefs as by common images: what binds us became what we stand witness to. Nobody sees this as a good change.

We fill pre-existing forms and when we fill them we change them and are changed. —Frank Bidart, "Borges and I

As everyone is well aware, ti is so difficult to do something nice for someone and not want them, desperately, to know that the identity of the individual who did it for them was you, and to feel grateful and approving towards you, and to tell myriads of other people what you 'did' for them, so that you can be widely acknowledged as a 'good' person.

live in an era of terrible preoccupation with presentation and interpretation, one in which the relations between who someone is and what he believes and how he "expresses himself" 70 have been thrown into big-time flux.

No, she simply felt - at times, mind you, not all the time, but at sharp and distinctive intuitive moments - as if she had no real existence, except for what she said and did and perceived and et cetera, and that these were, it seemed at such times, not really under her control. There was nothing pure.

What put him there, here and now, for you to see, is that he can't be seen. That's what the whole thing's about, now. That no one is really the way they have to be seen.

My husband laughed without smiling. He looked at the last of the sun-colored water as we approached the Brooklyn Bridge's system of angled shadow. Because if no one is really the way we see them, I said, that would include me. And you. Rudy admired the sunset out loud. He said it looked explosive, hanging, all round, just slightly over the water. Reflected and doubled in that bit of river. But he'd been looking only at the water. I'd watched him.

Tell them there are no holes for your fingers in the masks of men. Tell them how could you even hope to love what you can't grab onto.

You are so crushed and revolted. You become a lesbian