Quotes About Identity

They don't know who the prime minister is; they don't know what day of the week, month or even year it is. They can't quite remember their daughters' names and they certainly can't remember if they had lunch today or what the plan is for supper tonight.

He clutches his head. 'This is … this is insane, Lula. This isn't you. You're not fucking gay. This is her. She's done this to you. She's fucking groomed you. Can you not see that? She's groomed you.

And they are a part of you. And with Viva it sometimes felt like we were continuations of the same person, that I began where she ended, and vice versa.

when she went from being the sort of girl who drank warm cider with rough boys to the sort of girl who had the love of a real man, who had beautiful babies and a two-bedroom flat. But that girl … that girl is starting to feel like a shapeshifter, a fraud, a one-dimensional paper doll.

Just stop it. Because the thing is, the longer you tell yourself you're a loser, the more likely it is that that's what people will see you as. And you're not. You're superb.

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 now I know that me is fluid and shape-changing. So whatever you're feeling now, it's temporary.

Yes, tell us about Bryn." They'd said his name as if it were in italics, as if he were a character in a book.

Ghost?" St. Vincent shot him an incredulous glance. "Christ. You're not serious, are you?" "I'm a Gypsy," Cam replied matter-of-factly. "Of course I believe in ghosts." "Only half Gypsy. Which led me to assume that the rest of you was at least marginally sane and rational." "The other half is Irish," Cam said a touch apologetically. "Christ," St. Vincent said again, shaking his head as he strode away.

I'm not short. I'm…vertically disadvantaged.

Every time you look at me, you'll remember that I'm half his." "No." His hand came to the side of her face, his thumb wiping her tears. "You're all mine." His voice was deep and shaken. "Every hair on your head. Every part of you was made to be loved by me.

So are you bisexual?" I had asked, and Todd had laughed at my insistence on label. "I guess I'm bipossible," he had said.

I was a new person in the same world, which was a lot more difficult than being the same person in a new world.

You know," I told him on our wedding night, "I'm just as much me when I'm with you, as I am without you." And because Hardy understood what I meant, he pulled me into his arms, against his heart.

Cam had once told her that the Rom believed the entire world was their home. As long as you were with your family you were home.

It's a strange life, isn't it? ...A Rom with no tribe. No matter how hard you look, you can never find a home. Because to us, home is not a building or a tent or a vardo... home is a family.

And you're not the kind of girl I want." Surely he couldn't mean the fact that I was Mexican. From what I knew of Hardy, there wasn't a bit of prejudice in him. He never used racist words, never looked down on someone for things they couldn't help. "What kind do you want?" I asked with difficulty. "Someone I can leave without looking back.

Oh, very simple," Derek jeered. "It doesn't matter that I was born a bastard. She deserves nothing better than a man with a false name, fine clothes, and a sham accent. It's not important that I have no family and no religion. I don't believe in sacred causes, or honor, or unselfish motives. I can't be innocent enough for her. I never was. But why should that matter to her?

I've spent my entire life reading about the lives other people are having. My world has been... very small. No one believes I would thrive if I weren't kept secluded and protected. Like a flower in a glasshouse. If I marry one of my kind, as you put it, no one will ever see me as I am. Only what I'm supposed to be.

I wondered how much of me would be left after tomorrow.

Amelia, if we have children… will you mind that they're part Roma?" "Not if you don't mind that they're part Hathaway.

I'm from North Wales, where we express ourselves by throwing rocks at trees.

How could anyone resist you?" Phoebe asked, half-mocking, half-sincere. He gave her a dark glance. "Apparently she has no problem. The title, the fortune, the estate, the social position ... to her, they're all detractions. Somehow I have to convince her to marry me despite all those things." With raw honesty, he added, "And I'm damned if I even know who I am outside of them.

What did you do with memories, feelings, needs, that didn't belong anywhere?

When I look at the system here and look at my position - not just as a basketball player, but when I look around me at the values of the people and the culture and compare them with the values of where I came from - I feel so blessed to be from Africa.