Quotes About Identity

Every human being is a volume, worthy to be studied.

From the moment people first began practicing rituals, they have been creating folk tales and legends to celebrate their past and create a unique cultural identity. Mythik Press carries these legacies forward by publishing the greatest stories ever concocted, from King Arthur to the fairy tales of the Brothers Grimm.

Or ever the knightly years were goneWith the old world to the grave,I was a King in BabylonAnd you were a Christian Slave.

To live one's myth is to think in its terms. To fulfill one's myth is to suffer through its source.

Then all meaning was in the group . . . today . . . all is in the individual.

I've always subconsciously looked out for the total Christian and when I found him he turned out to be a non-practicing Jew.

Why do you hate the South?I dont hate it…. I dont hate it…. I dont hate it he thought, panting in the cold air, the iron New England dark; I dont. I dont! I dont hate it! I dont hate it!

Gettysburg.… You cant understand it. You would have to be born there.

Once a bitch always a bitch, what I say.

I was a sunburnt pagan now. I felt privy to mysteries.

Chick's entrance into Ivy University Law School constituted an important step forward in his social and professional career. There was still a hard struggle ahead of him. The next few years would be decisive in determining his position in society. Against that background we can understand what the Italian Community Club meant to Chick Morelli.

We are what we myth.

I strongly believe that we are not put on this Earth just to accumulate victories and trophies and avoid failures; but rather to be whittled and sandpapered down until what's left is who we truly are

What is it they want from a man that they didn't get from the work? What do they expect? What is there left of him when he's done his work? What's any artist but the dregs of his work? the human shambles that follows it around.

Why do you treat me as they do, as though I were exactly what I want to be. Why do we treat people that way?

What is it they want from a man that they didn't get from his work? What do they expect? What is there left of him when he's done his work? What's any artist, but the dregs of his work? the human shambles that follows it around. What's left of the man when the work's done but a shambles of apology.

He seemed to be drawing inward toward some point at which he would be reduced to the fundamental essence of himself.

Things aren't different. Things are things.

There must be some Tommy Hilfiger event horizon, beyond which it is impossible to be more derivative, more removed from the source, more devoid of soul.

Maybe there is a beast… maybe it's only us.

Fancy thinking the Beast was something you could hunt and kill! You knew, didn't you? I'm part of you? Close, close, close! I'm the reason why it's no go? Why things are what they are?

What are we? Humans? Or animals? Or savages?

If faces were different when lit from above or below -- what was a face? What was anything?

We've got to have rules and obey them. After all, we're not savages. We're English, and the English are best at everything.