Quotes About Self-doubt

I had a desperate need to be Van Gogh or something. Some tremendous artist. Jack's so successful, what's wrong with me, why isn't this working for me? I hated myself.

If you always feel like an imposter, you work harder, and that makes you better at your job. You've got to keep a level of variation; otherwise, you'll end up talking about nails and beauty products all the time.

I was in Dallas and I had gained weight and knew becoming a vegetarian was the quickest way to lose it. I just wasn't sure if I could do it.

Many women do not want to venture out into the 'opinion world' until they are certain of themselves, the facts, and that they are right. They are afraid of being shot down. The result is often silence.

It made me feel almost giddy, like a high-school girl watching the captain of the football team worked up his nerve to ask for a date. You mean me? Little old me? Oh my stars, really? Pardon me while I flutter my eyelashes.

In desperate moods he asked his mirror why the girl he was crazy about was the only girl not crazy about him.

all it took to succeed was to stop listening to my internal critic and to just start doing.

Because so often when we say we're unqualified for something, what we're really saying is that we're too scared to try it, not that we can't do it.

Somehow I thought I could make more of myself by making less of myself.

You don't believe in unconditional love. Neither does Alex. So you both threw away the best thing you ever had because you didn't believe in each other or yourselves.

Is it still there? I asked, staring at his head, bent over, as he wedged the stethoscope beneath my left breast. And then, before I could stop myself, Does it sound broken?

He had sacrificed so much -- And now? What if not even all that was enough to quiet that voice....the voice that said, 'You're not worthy, you don't deserve it, nothing you do will ever be enough.

Inadequacy and impostor syndrome are painful. They're also great motivators.

The borderline individual does not accept her own intelligence, attractiveness, or sensitivity as constant traits, but rather as comparative qualities to be continually re-earned

Mr, B, what's wrong with me? [...] Nothing. You're smart enough to know you don't have all the answers, that's all.

My cynicism continuously undermines her faith in her own ability to master her moods.

I sit in front of the notebook and feel like it's just too late for me. And that this book isn't working, nothing's working, everything feels like it's made of spiders.

I sit in front of the notebook and feel like it's just too late for me. And that this book isn't working, nothing's working, everything feels like it's made of spiders." Those

So I add frigid to the list. To that stupid mental inventory I try so hard not to keep. An increasingly large list of all my flaws. My inadequacies. My failures.

What did I do? I read books and studied. I listened to my parents and did what they asked me to. Even though, in the end, I never made them happy. I didn't like myself, and something told me I'd end up alone.

She believed she was not significant enough to cast a shadow of her own.

Always at the end of a queue, in the shadow of others, she believed she was not significant enough to cast a shadow of her own.

Subhash was angry with himself for going along with it. For still needing to prove he could. He was sick of the fear that always rose up in him: that he would cease to exist, and that he and Udayan would cease to be brothers, were Subhash to resist him.

If you want to write the next great novel, but you think, No, this won't work because no one will buy it or it won't be any good, then you talk yourself out of taking a risk.