Quotes About Identity

All young people worry about things, it's a natural and inevitable part of growing up, and at the age of sixteen my greatest anxiety in life was that I'd never again achieve anything as good, or pure, or noble, or true, as my O-level results.

We're not ourselves, are we? I'm certainly not myself, not anymore. And you're not either. You don't seem yourself. Not as I remember you.

What must that be like? To be admired before you've even said a word, to be desired two or three hundred times a day by people who have absolutely no idea what you're like?

Who do you think you are, Jane Eyre? Grow up. Be sensible. Don't get carried away.

Sympathy for the spinster. I'm perfectly content, thank you. And I refuse to be defined by my boyfriend. Or lack of. Once you decide not to worry about that stuff anymore, dating and relationships and love and all that, it's like you're free to get on with real life.

He's wearing his official university sweatshirt again, which puzzles me a little. I mean I'd sort of understand it more if it said Yale or Harvard or something, because then it would be a fashion choice. But why advertise the fact that you're at a university to all the other people who are at the university with you?

Recently he has noticed idiocy creeping up on him. His resolve to keep his head on straight, his feet on the ground, is failing and he has observed, quite objectively, that he is becoming more thoughtless, selfish, making more and more stupid remarks. He has tried to do something about this but it almost feels out of his control now, like pattern baldness. Why not just give in and be an idiot? Stop caring.

She could see the words Calvin Klein against the brown hair on the small of his back and it occurred to her that this was probably not at all what Calvin Klein had in mind.

And it's true, I have a perfectly fine face, eyes that may well be 'kind' but are also the brownest of browns, a reasonable-sized nose and the kind of smile that causes photographs to be thrown away.

I get this occasionally, the need to define myself as a something-or-other, and at various times in my life I have wondered if I´m a Goth, a homosexual, a Jew, a Catholic or a manic-depressive, wheter I am adopted, or have a hole in my heart, or possess the ability to move objects with the power of my mind, and have always, mostly regretfully, come to conclusion that I´m none of the above. The fact is I´m actually not ANYTHING.

The tourist's paradox: how to find somewhere that's free of people exactly like us.

Oh you know me. I have no emotions. I'm a robot. Or a nun. A robot nun.

Whatever you do, for goodness sake, don't change the name of your corporation to initials.

Develop your eccentricities while you are young. That way, when you get old, people won't think you're going gaga.

It isn't the whiskey they choose, it's the image.

When they look at themselves they see nothing that was valued by their parents.

Only psychologically mature young adults can tolerate the reality that their parents failed them in certain areas, because their maturity frees them from needing false but comforting illusions about their parents. That is, their identity is firm enough to allow them to stand on their own without needing the support of their parents.

As time goes on, she falls further behind in terms of social skills and achievements. As she gets older and her body continues to grow, she is placed in an ever more frightening position with increasing social expectations. Instead of allowing a complex, rich, and confident identity to emerge, she is left with a mostly unconscious wounded self and a childlike, need-driven personality.

The same phenomenon can be observed when young adults with underformed personalities who join cults and fringe groups. These groups attract hordes of "adults" who never had the type of early care that resulted in a solid identity, and they eagerly give up what little personality structure they have and allow the cult to dominate their life.

The loss for all adults who remain loyal to ungiving parents is the loss of time. Living with the attitudes and identity of a child in an adult body is a guaranteed way of wasting time that could be used toward developing a more mature and satisfying way of life. The lost time is simply that—lost—and every passing year reduces the probability that the adult child who remains attached to failed parents will be able to emerge into adulthood.

It says something really terrible when the least safe place to deal with sexual orientation and identity issues is the Christian family and church.

my own beloved sister, who is dearer to me than words can say and who came out as a lesbian

evangelicalism—at its core, at its immovable power center—never was more than fundamentalism with lipstick on.

That has excluded those who are unable to fulfill that prescription due to their sexual orientation.