Quotes About Identity

How is it that you wrenched apart that which is inseparable? Why did you create the Either/Or? Flesh or spirit, body or soul, thinking or feeling.

You may be a lady but you are still the man!

The thing I call 'my mind' seems to be kind of like a landlord that doesn't really know its tenants.

You keep seeing your picture on posters that you are missing but you're not. That'd be weird, right? Or say you look down at the sidewalk and earthworms are spelling your name. Or you open a peanut bag and the 'hello' is written in your writing on the inside of the shell. Would that weird ya?

What is it that remains essentially you?

Simply following the herd is not going to work. In a way that past generations simply didn't have to do, each one of us will need to think about who we are and how we construct our life and how this reflects our identity and values.

faces that it was.

A national language is a national tie', Noah Webster

Luther's views were not a medieval relic but a development of it. Even more disturbing, it was not incidental to his theology, a lamentable prejudice taken over from contemporary attitudes. Rather, it was integral to his thought; his insistence that the true Christians—that is, the evangelicals—had become the chosen people and had displaced the Jews would become fundamental to Protestant identity.

Not merely a nation but a nation of nations.

America is not merely a nation but a nation of nations.

As long as you are black, and you're gonna be black till the day you die, no one's gonna call you by your goddamn name. So no matter what you are called, nigger, you just let it roll off your back like water, and you'll make it. Just pretend you're a goddamn piece of furniture. [Said to his chauffeur, Robert Parker, when Parker said he'd prefer to be referred to by his name rather than "boy," "nigger" or "chief."]

Your success is not in what you do, but in who you are in Jesus. His death on the cross, His resurrection life, and His righteousness define you.

Our daughters aren't the same people we are, nor are they extensions of ourselves. They are unique individuals in God's eyes, responsible to Him for the choices they make, not to their mothers.

Your real Father is God. He's the only Father who will never disappoint you. And from the time He formed you in your mother's womb, He already knew you and loved you more than Karl Bauer or any other man ever could.

Cool isn't for sale at the bondage store. You make it up yourself, pull it outta your asshole, your own unique brand that starts when you're born, and when you die, it's gone.

You and me," she says, "we're two sides of the same coin. Gender's a box you turn inside out, tear up, and sew a gown out of." She says most people are bored and hateful because they can't fuck with the box. They think prison's protection. They take what they're served and think they like it, but deep down they want to be something else, and they'll kill anyone sewing gowns they're afraid to wear.

I thank her for starting that rumor in my brain that I was lovable. I thank her for her one-woman cult of blood, cum, spit, and razors that called me exquisite and shunned all the winners, cheerleaders, cops, and clear-skinned Hollywood movie stars.

I learned in high school, if I hold up an effigy, a mask, or a lie, that mask will get all the love, not me.

First you must believe there is a soul.... If by a soul one means the creature who lives within each of us, a creature born loving, born joyful, but who with each worldly blow shrinks more deeply into its shell until at last, the poor desiccated thing is unrecognizable even to its own self, yes. I do.

Tobin had spent the first twelve years of his life living a lie, and the last two trying to ignore the truth.

Imagine—Lord Seregil and Lord Alec slapped up in the Red Tower for common housebreaking? No one knows what we really are, or what we've done for Skala. It would just be shame and dishonor, and for what? Because some titled slip of a girl couldn't keep her skirts down on Mourning Night, then decided she wanted a proper marriage? For that, I risk losing you?

I wasn't put on this earth to be housekeeper to my own child or to anyone else for that matter.

Whether male or female, there is within you a softness, a gentleness, a sweetness so beautiful you might weep from the feeling, were you to touch it. Aggressive or tender, beggar or billionaire, we all have it, for it is what we are. This sweetness has nothing to do with personality. It's not about being weak rather than strong, a doormat rather than a mighty general. It has to do with you, for it is what you