Quotes About Identity

Woman, I spend my days hammering nails and building strong walls. I'm plenty manly enough.

Eve: Yo! Mocha! Oliver: Yo. I am not your waitress.

Gwen Proctor is the fourth identity I've had since leaving Wichita. Gina Royal lies dead in the past; I'm not that woman anymore. In fact, I can hardly recognize her now, that weak creature who'd submitted, pretended, smoothed over every ripple of trouble that rose.

Perhaps it's not that I'm frigid-- it's that once I decide I like a guy, I turn into a raging idiot, unfit for public appearances.

I am bigger than the box I'm in.

There's no such thing as a soulmate...and who would want there to be? I don't want half of a shared soul. I want my own damn soul.

I stand up from the table and wiggle my index finger at Nick. He'll never get it, but I borrow from Heathers as I leave him to follow Tris. A true friend's work is never done, I singsong. Bulimia is so '87, Heather, he answers. HOLY SHIT squared. I think I just had my first orgasm.

People come to New York to be different, but I go to Starbucks to be the same.

It still might be a shock. To realize you are just one story walking among millions.

I am stronger than words and I am bigger than the box I'm in, and then I see her in the crowd and I fall apart -I am listening and I am listening because what I'm playing isn't something I'm thinking about, it's something I'm feeling all over.

I can be a badass DJ when I want, but I am also an insufferable music snob.

There's the usual suspects in there, Green Day and The Clash and The Smiths, yeah, but there's also Ella and Frank, even Dino, some Curtis Mayfield and Minor Threat and Dusty Springfield and Belle & Sebastian, and as I flip through his musical life, getting to know his tastes, I must acknowledge that not only am I not frigid, but I also may be multi-orgasmic.

Who's Jessie? My Yugo You have a name for your Yugo? Please don't tell me you're one of those guys who also names his dick. Unfortunately, I've yet to find the perfect name for mine, so it's in this netherworld of nameless identity right now.

Lou's such an old punk he was around when the Ramones were junkie hustlers first and musicians second, when punk meant something other than a mass-marketing concept designed to help the bridge-and-tunnel crowd feel cool.

I'm not that girl who randomly meets a guy one night and has her life change. I wear cords and flannel shirts. I don't have the killer body like Tris or Caroline. Sometimes I don't wash my hair for three days and sometimes I don't floss.

If I were going to give you more advice that I myself can't seem to take, I would tell you that in order to build character, you don't invent a new self, you instead build on what's already there. The good parts. The things you love. As horrid as it sounds, at a certain point—i.e., the point we're at now—you build your character on the foundation of all the things you love.

How come princesses always have some huge flaw that can cause their downfall?

We will go Awful and die together. But we will do it as free Betas. Not as puppets of the humans.

If I'm just The Guy With Norah, that's cool. Right now, that's all I want to be. All the other things I am—they're too complicated. I can feel them lying in wait, planning their return.

The Velmas of the world do not intern at CNN, hope to be accepted at Columbia J-School after graduating NYU with honors, and go on to win Pulitzer Prizes by getting bogged down in relationship drama. That's a problem for the Daphnes of the world. Daphne, you bitch, you can't even drive the damn van.

I am stronger than words and bigger than the box I'm in, and then I see her in the crowd and I fall apart.

We are reading the story of our lives As though we were in it, As though we had written it.

The incidental fact of his straightness doesn't mean I want to be NoMo's five-minute girlfriend, like I'm some 7-Eleven quick stop on his slut train.

no one is ever who you want them to be. And the less you really know them, the more likely you are to confuse them with the girl or boy in your head.