Quotes About Me (page 11)
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Only yesterday I was no different than them, yet I was saved. I am explaining to you the way of life of a people who say every sort of wicked thing about me because I sacrificed their friendship to gain my own soul. I left the dark paths of their duplicity and turned my eyes toward the light where there is salvation, truth, and justice. They have exiled me now from their society, yet I am content. Mankind only exiles the one whose large spirit rebels against injustice and tyranny. He who does...
Khalil Gibran
I'm not afraid to compete. It's just the opposite. Don't you see that? I'm afraid I will compete? that's what scares me. That's why I quit the Theatre Department. Just because I'm so horribly conditioned to accept everybody else's values, and just because I like applause and people to rave about me, doesn't make it right. I'm ashamed of it. I'm sick of it. I'm sick of not having the courage to be an absolute nobody. I'm sick of myself and everybody else that wants to make some kind of a splash.
J. D. Salinger
You're angry with me becuase you care about me. This water's too hot," she said when she tested it."No, it isn't. And I'm not angry with you at t'all." Murmuring to the gelding, he lay the heated flannel over the abscess. "A bit with myself, maybe, but it's more satisfying to take it out on you.
Nora Roberts
With every morn my life afresh must break. The crust of self, gathered about me fresh; That thy wind-spirit may rush in and shake. The darkness out of me, and rend the mesh. The spider-devils spin out of the flesh-Eager to net the soul before it wake, That it may slumberous lie, and listen to the snake. George Mac. Donald
George MacDonald
My theme is memory, that winged host that soared about me one grey morning of war-time. These memories, which are my life—for we possess nothing certainly except the past—were always with me. Like the pigeons of St. Mark’s, they were everywhere, under my feet, singly, in pairs, in little honey-voiced congregations, nodding, strutting, winking, rolling the tender feathers of their necks, perching sometimes, if I stood still, on my shoulder or pecking a broken biscuit from between my lips;...
Evelyn Waugh
When I was a kid--10, 11, 12, 13--the thing I wanted most in the world was a best friend. I wanted to be important to people; to have people that understood me. I wanted to just be close to somebody. And back then, a thought would go through my head almost constantly: "There's never gonna be a room someplace where there's a group of people sitting around, having fun, hanging out, where one of them goes, 'You know what would be great? We should call Fiona. Yeah, that would be good.' That'll...
Fiona Apple
I used to stand in front of the mirror in the bathroom to see what they were staring at. I wanted to
know what made their heads turn, what it was about me that was so incredibly different. At first I
couldn’t tell. I mean, I was just me.
Then one day, when I looked in the mirror, I understood. I looked into my own eyes and I hated
myself, maybe as much as all of them did.
That was the day I started to believe they might be right.
Jodi Picoult
When I say or write something, there are actually a whole lot of different things I am communicating. The propositional content (i. e., the verbal information I'm trying to convey) is only one part of it. Another part is stuff about me, the communicator. Everyone knows this. It's a function of the fact there are so many different well-formed ways to say the same basic thing, from e. g. "I was attacked by a bear!" to "Goddamn bear tried to kill me!" to "That ursine juggernaut did essay to sup...
David Foster Wallace
