Quotes About Anonymity

I was in the mood to make out in the back row of the movie theater with someone who did not know my first name. I wanted three guys to fight for the honor of buying me a drink

I was always a distinct no-one, whose fiercest wish was to be an indistinct someone.

Everyone has that one ex they don't want the world to know they dated.

I'm Nobody! Who are you? Are you -- Nobody -- too? Then there's a pair of us? Don't tell! they'd advertise -- you know!

I wish I could stay a secret...like living in the dark, if no one knows you, no one cares, so no one breaks your heart.

You lose your anonymity just like a helium balloon with a string. Therefore people are going to have their own opinion and they're going to write in whatever clever manner they desire

Death in anonymity is the ultimate insult to human dignity.

Sometimes I wish that Anna Wintour didn't know I existed.

I don't expect anybody to know who I am.

I don't think I can remain anonymous for that much longer. It was fun while it lasted. Very fun.

I've learnt that it's possible to be as anonymous as you want. It's a choice, and I've become very, very good at being anonymous.

For me it's liberating to be able to look somebody in the eyes and know that they can't see my eyes. I've always thought that when I would see Slipknot playing.

I really liked it best when I was a nobody.

One of the lovely things about writing when nobody knows who you are is there's no expectation.

One of the things I liked about writing for a magazine was a kind of anonymity. When you do books, it's different than magazine pieces because you become a 'figure.'

Sometimes I had three or four stories in a single magazine without the editor knowing they were all by me.

People Sophie had known all her life came and bought flowers by the bundle. None of them recognized her, and that made her feel very odd.

Is he one of them now? Frustrated, stuck, self-watching, looking for a means of connection, a way to break out. After Oswald, men in America are no longer required to lead lives of quiet desperation. You apply for a credit card, buy a handgun, travel through cities, suburbs and shopping malls, anonymous, anonymous, looking for a chance to take a shot at the first puffy empty famous face, just to let people know there is someone out there who reads the papers.

Do not, as long as you live, ever again allow your real name to be coupled with your home address.

Find yourself a used iPhone, maybe from Craigslist, where you have no relationship with the seller. Pay cash for it, toss the SIM card, and restore it to factory settings. You'll need to set up a burner email to get an anonymous iTunes account.

They signed in as Mr. P. Villa and Mrs. S. Hayek.

Noi solchiamo i meandri della storia. Noi siamo le ombre di cui le cronache non parleranno. Noi non esistiamo.

Never leave anything which can be traced, when you do have a choice.

The bowed head, the buried face. She is silent, she will never speak, never forgive, never reach a hand, never leave this frozen present tense. All waits, suspended. Suspended the autumn trees, the autumn sky, anonymous people. A blackbird, poor fool, sings out of season from the willows by the lake. A flight of pigeons over the houses; fragments of freedom, hazard, an anagram made flesh. And somewhere the stinging smell of burning leaves.