Quotes About Validation

III. I have often wondered how it should come to pass, that every man loving himself best, should more regard other men's opinions concerning himself than his own. For if any God or grave master standing by, should command any of us to think nothing by himself but what he should presently speak out; no man were able to endure it, though but for one day. Thus do we fear more what our neighbours will think of us, than what we ourselves.

De multe ori am fost uimit de faptul ca fiecare, desi se iubeste pe sine insusi mai mult decat pe toti ceilalti, pune totusi mai putin pret pe propria parere despre sine decat pe parerea celorlalti despre el.

Is an emerald suddenly flawed if no one admires it?

How strangely men act. They will not praise those who are living at the same time and living with themselves; but to be themselves praised by posterity, by those whom they have never seen or ever will see, this they set much value on. But this is very much the same as if you should be grieved because those who have lived before you did not praise you.

4. It never ceases to amaze me: we all love ourselves more than other people, but care more about their opinion than our own.

never ceases to amaze me: we all love ourselves more than other people, but care more about their opinion than our own.

18. The way people behave. They refuse to admire their contemporaries, the people whose lives they share. No, but to be admired by Posterity—people they've never met and never will—that's what they set their hearts on. You might as well be upset at not being a hero to your great-grandfather.

You want the praise of people who kick themselves every 15 minutes. The praise of people who despise themselves?

Que no te aparte que detrás venga la crítica o la palabra de algunos, por el contrario, si está bien hecho o bien dicho, no te subestimes. Ellos

It never ceases to amaze me: we all love ourselves more than other people, but care more about their opinions than our own

Often have I marvelled how each one of us loves himself above all men, yet sets less store by his own opinion of himself than by that of everyone else.

And she finds it difficult to believe—that a person would love her even when she isn't trying. Trying to figure out what other people need, trying to be worthy.

Which of us can resist the temptation of being thought indispensable?

By telling you anything at all I'm at least believing in you, I believe you're there, I believe you into being.

Once in a while, Jimmy would make up a word but he never once got caught out. ... He should have been pleased by his success with these verbal fabrications, but instead he was depressed by it. The memos telling him he'd done a good job meant nothing to him; all they proved was that no one was capable of appreciating how clever he had been. He came to understand why serial killers sent helpful clues to the police.

And he couldn't stand to be nothing, to know himself to be nothing. He needs to be listened to, he needs to be heard. He needs at least the illusion of being understood.

The memos that came from above telling him he'd done a good job meant nothing to him because they'd been dictated by semi-literates; all they proved was that no one at AnooYou was capable of appreciating how clever he had been. He came to understand why serial killers sent helpful clues to the police.

Jimmy found himself wishing to make a dent in Crake, get a reaction; it was one of his weaknesses, to care what other people thought of him.

Why do we want other people to like us, even if we don't really care about them all that much?

Nobody is any authority of the fucks other people give.

I really don't know what men used to say. I had only their words for it.

Now I wanted to be acknowledged, but I feared it.

Have I been conditioned to believe that if I am not solicitous, if I am not forthcoming, if I am not a never-ending cornicopia of entertaining delights, they will take their collections of milk-bottle tops and their mangy one-eared teddy bears and go away into the woods by themselves to play snipers? Probably. What my mother thinks was merely cute may have been lethal.

She expected too much from me, I felt. She expected me to vindicate her life for her, and the choices she'd made. I didn't want to live my life on her terms. I didn't want to be the model offspring, the incarnation of her ideas. We used to fight about that. I am not your justification for existence, I said to her once.