Quotes About Identity

I'm not sure, any more, I'm not sure about anything. But I'd happily try it. Try anything really, just to get back to myself.

But what you just said, about him being dangerous. What do you mean by that?" "I mean," says Blue, "that a man who can't love but desperately needs to be loved is a dangerous thing indeed. And I think Floyd is dangerous because he's pretending to be someone he's not in order to get you to love him.

And you will always be so much more than a label.

I'm not going to tell you that in ten years you'll look back and wonder what the hell you were thinking, because I remember being twenty-one and thinking that my personality was a solid thing, that me was set in stone, that I would always feel what I felt and believe what I believed. But not I know that me is fluid and shape-changing.

I'm not going to tell you in ten years you'll look back and wonder what the hell you were thinking, because I remember being 21 and thinking my personality was a solid thing, that 'me' was set in stone, that I would always feel what I felt and believe what I believed. But now I know 'me' is fluid and shape-changing. So whatever you're feeling now, it's temporary.

When she left, she took with her any sense I had of myself as a worthwhile person. Without her I was just this blank space. When she died my whole world turned black.

I had gone back to being the "other" Saffyre Maddox, the one who showed up in the classroom every morning clean and fresh, hair neatly tied back, some mascara, some lip gloss. It wasn't so much that I actively wanted to look nice, it was more that if I didn't look nice, people would worry, they'd ask me questions, the pastoral-care woman would pull me into her office and expect me to tell her what was wrong with me.

He is his mother's son: small-minded, self-absorbed, inward-thinking, a little bit racist, a little bit homophobic, a little bit misogynistic. All those things that don't matter when you're fourteen and in love, but start to sprout insidiously to the surface over the years it takes you to go from child to adult

At thirty-two years of age, Rachel tried not to dwell too much on the fact that her entire adult existence was a mirage.

I'm still me, Mum, wherever I go in the world, I'm still just me.

All that air," you repeated. "You are funny." "No. I'm just Irish.

His mum, like him, had no friends. It was as if they could tell, he thought, they could tell she wasn't ever going to be one of them. She was always going to be trying, never just being.

I had a girlfriend there. Mathilde. She was French. Quite pretty. We kissed a few times and maybe if my parents hadn't dragged me away by the scruff of my neck at that precise moment and dropped me down in the next place, maybe I'd have had a chance to develop that normality, become a guy with a core and a soul.

The point is … you. You're the point. I thought I knew you. I thought I knew who you were. That golden girl in the pharmacy. That girl with the lustre, the class, the elegance. The girl who'd been waiting for her prince.

of walking about with a shaved head, he walked past Whackadoo. He saw neither Romola nor Joey, but it didn't matter. Just the very act of allowing himself to be seen in this new and somewhat alarming guise was exciting

What you were getting into?' 'Yeah. Damaged goods.' Rachel felt a punch to the back of her gut at these words and the burn of bile at the base of her throat. 'I'm sorry?' 'Yeah. I guess I was duped by the English accent. Fooled into thinking it somehow equated with class. Yet again.

I listened to your podcast this summer. Basic bitch? Really? I've been under attack all my life, Alix. All my life. And now from you too.

Forty-two is a strange age. Neither young nor old. If I were straight, I suppose I'd be frantically flailing around right now trying to find a last-minute wife with functioning ovaries. As it is, I am not straight, and neither am I the sort of man that other men wish to form lengthy and meaningful relationships with, so that leaves me in the worst possible position—an unlovable gay man with fading looks.

Your father was not a boss-eyed sailor. Or a rapist. He was a legend.

Hi! I'm Your Birthday Twin! A NETFLIX ORIGINAL SERIES

remember being twenty-one and thinking that my personality was a solid thing, that me was set in stone, that I would always feel what I felt and believe what I believed. But now I know that me is fluid and shape-changing. So whatever you're feeling now, it's temporary.

Although they reflected the parts of himself that he disliked, he didn't dislike them.

The idea that Justin had sacrificed his life not for the glamorous refurbished version of Henry Lamb but for the original, slightly crappy version has filled his soul with rightness and substance. Henry Lamb was enough, he'd thought; he didn't need to be anybody else.

Yes. I know. I look like you. Crazy, eh? Can you believe it? What sort of sad loser spends his whole adult life pretending to be someone he was in love with when he was a child? You know, I even call myself Phin sometimes. Isn't that pathetic?' Phin nods, then shakes his head, then says, 'Yes. That is pretty fucked up. What are you doing here? What do you want?