Quotes About Identity

FRED WOLF: No one goes to Hollywood to meet their future husband or wife, or buy a house and have kids. They all go to Hollywood because they're kind of damaged and there's something they're searching for.

The secret of a person's nature lies in their religion and what they really believes about the world and their place in it.

The face of a lover is an unknown, precisely because it is invested with so much of oneself. It is a mystery, containing, like all mysteries, the possibility of torment.

Identifico in questo cuore ciò che ho chiamato esperienza elementare: qualcosa cioè che tende a indicare compiutamente l'impeto originale con cui l'essere umano si protende sulla realtà, cercando di immedesimarsi con essa, attraverso la realizzazione di un progetto, che alla realtà stessa detti l'immagine ideale che lo stimola dal di dentro.

Six Characters in Search of an Author.

I present myself to you in a form suitable to the relationship I wish to achieve with you.

Inevitably we construct ourselves. Let me explain. I enter this house and immediately I become what I have to become, what I can become: I construct myself. That is, I present myself to you in a form suitable to the relationship I wish to achieve with you. And, of course, you do the same with me.

The idea that others saw in me one that was not the I whom I knew, one whom they alone could know, as they looked at me from without, with eyes that were not my own, eyes that conferred upon me an aspect destined to remain always foreign to me, although it was one that was in me, one that was my own to them (a "mine," that is to say, that was not for me!)—a life into which, although it was my own, I had no power to penetrate—this idea gave me no rest.

Imparerai a tue spese che nel lungo tragitto della vita incontrerai tante maschere e pochi volti.

I am an "unrealized" character, dramatically speaking...

Do you recognize perhaps, also you, now, that a minute ago you were another?

No wonder Americans seemed crazy to everybody else--they were utterly alone in the vastness of this ridiculously immense land. They all skittered about, alighting and flying off again like frantic butterflies. Looking for--what? What were they looking for?

This ain't what we are, homes," Lalo says. "This is not us. This is the story they tell about us, but it's not true.

In the desert, we are all illegal aliens.

She is a karateka ," La Osa replied. "Nayeli could karate-kick you to death where you sit." "That's hardly feminine." He sniffed. "Perhaps," Nayeli suggested, "it is time for a new kind of femininity.

Better a gringo than a dead man," the lieutenant sighed, smoke escaping his nostrils. "Barely! But, yes, hell yes.

We spend our lives walking into our own mirrors. All we see is ourselves as we walk down the road.

They signed in as Mr. P. Villa and Mrs. S. Hayek.

Everybody loves Jesus Christ, they just don't know what to do with Jesus Garcia.

If you were born to be a flood, you cannot insult Heaven by insisting you are a drought.

Slowly, both the vaguely ironic and the deeply sincere among them came to see how seriously the Red Cross and the army took this service. And they started to take it seriously, too. They didn't feel like cooks, didn't feel like waitresses. Ellie said they were ass-kicking bitches, and they knew that they were. Though Irene said: "I was thinking of Amazons." Ellie and Dorothy stared at her—she made a soft little muscle—and laughed.

Gringos! They have copied us again

He, who endlessly combated his family's reliance on 'Mexican time.' They drove him crazy. If a dinner gathering was announced for six o'clock, he could be sure it wouldn't start until nine. They'd walk in as if they were early. Or worse, they'd say 'What?' as if he were the one with a problem. You know you're Mexican when lunch doesn't show up till ten at night.

People daily speak a quilt of words, and continents and nations and tribes and even enemies dance all over your mouth when you speak. The tongue seems to know no race, no affiliation, no breed, no caste, no order, no genus, no lineage.