Best 52 quotes in «misfits quotes» category

I know what I want to hear. I want to hear the "Believe it or Not" song. I want to play that shit loud. Really belt out the "Should have been somebody eeeeeelse" part, with a little bit of Zack de la Rocha venom. That would be pretty awesome right about now. But the other part of me, the part that wanted to be cool, knew that it was a much better idea to say, "Let's play the fucking Misfits." Because that's what you say to the cool guy in the combat boots who wants to smoke in your house. Because he's going to snarl-smile at you and say, "Fuck yeah!" And you're feel cool by association. "Let's play the fucking Misfits," I said. John snarl-smiled and saluted me with rock horns. "Fuck yeah." Told you.

It dawned on me that we have to breathe and to find reasons to stay alive on our own terms.

I 'passed' in every sphere of regular life I entered, but I entered those spheres less and less, and spent more and more time under the overpass.

Look, Jenna, it isn't like Wayne is perfect. Our crew is a bunch of overgrown misfit children. Wayne had it the worst growing up, but we all had the unpopular weirdo freak thing in one way or another. I like to think that a combination of decent brains and a fairly good sense of humor kept us all from becoming tragic situations." "You mean criminals and meth heads?" Elliot laughs. "Exactly. And at a certain level, I think we all cling to our weirdness because it insulates us from trying to fit in and failing.

Our first guests were unconventional- free spirits and hippies. We seemed to attract oddballs, and we didn't know why. Don't get me wrong. We loved it. But I'll never forget the first summer Bulahdeen and her husband arrived. She said they chose Lost Lake because of the brochure. She said that she took one look at the photo of me and George and thought, 'I'm a misfit like them, so maybe I could be happy there, too.'" That made Kate laugh. "She was right. Misfits need a place to get away, too. All that trying to fit in is exhausting.

Misfits deal with the double-edged reality of having our differences act as the source of both our challenges as well as our successes.

Misfits … It seems to me that their adventure, more than any other, sheds a light on the future, that they alone allow us to glimpse and to decipher it, and that if we set their exploits aside we utterly disqualify ourselves from describing the days to come.

Never forget,' says Sugar Daddy, 'we are a nation built on sugar. It is our history and it is the source of our prosperity, now and in the future.' This is true. Our entire nation sits on reclaimed land made from sugar. Ours is an island that rose out of the sea, built on a hard core of toffee.

On the Training of Doctors is dedicated to everyone in the world that defies conventions. It is dedicated to those that take the chance to be themselves in a world that demands compliance to norms. We dedicate this book to everyone in the queer, BDSM Lifestyler/kinkster, geek/nerd, neurodivergent, pagan, artistic, writing, transgender communities, and any other community that dares to defy the “norms”. There is nothing that takes more courage than to stand up and be yourself when those around us demand that we conform. We refuse to conform. We refuse to comply. We are beautiful and unique. We are never going to go away, and we are going to change the world.

Our art is made in cities like New York by people who are running from other places. They feel themselves as misfits who were trapped in dead-end suburbs. They hated high school. Their parents did not understand. They are seeking a better world. And when they realize that the world is wholly a problem, that the whole problem is in them, they make television for other people who are also running, who take voyage in search of a perfect world, then rage at the price of the ticket.

Steffy risked a glance at her fellow neighbors and townspeople. She often looked for kindred spirits in the crowd. None were ever found. Just once, she wished to see someone trying to hide a smile, a snicker, or plain sighing at the absurdity. The rowdy outcasts among the community were not welcome in the church. They knew better than to show their faces.

She pulls me further down. More trapped souls reach out to us, dressed in clothes from decades past. The girl ignores them as we descend along the timeline – decade by decade – towards the birth of the island.

People who feel imprisoned in a pen of alienation, in a world of misfits, clobbered by unresponsiveness and indifference, may find release by ring-fencing a mental space to reflect on their mindset and to recover their true self. ("Did not expect it would ever happen there" )

They enrolled me in a group for troubled kids. We would meet each week in an old farmhouse owned by the university and talk about our problems getting along. . . . . They didn't teach me to get along, but I did learn that there were plenty of other kids who couldn't get along any better than me. That in itself was encouraging. I realized that I was not the bottom of the barrel. Or if I was, the bottom was roomy because there were a lot of us down there.

The world turned itself into a better place around him.

We misfits are the ones with the ability to enter grief. Death. Trauma. And emerge.

This is a house full of misfits, everyone unmoored from the world outside these gates. They don’t belong out there. They live in a constantly moving dreamworld of imagined horrors, spurts of gore, skulking monsters---creatures more aberrant than themselves. After all, it takes true misfits to make believable monsters.

Upon the gifted among the misfits lies the burden of building new worlds.

When I got back to Marceline, I did not conceal from her how tedious I found all these acquaintances. "They are all alike," I said to her. "When I talk to one, I feel as if I were talking to the whole lot." "But, my dear," said Marceline, "you can't expect each of them to be different from the others." "The greater their likeness to each other, the more unlike they are to me.

What I learned from that intensely educational period of my life is that one kind of misfit is the person who suffers abuse or trauma and doesn't transcend it in the socially hoped-for way. We take a wrong turn or go deeper down. That's often looked at like a failure, but sometimes I wonder. I've learned things by taking the wrong turn or going down deeper that I could not have learned any other way.

We took off for the tree line, leaving the wounded soldiers to wonder how they'd been beaten by four misfits and a horse.

All of us are subjected to somebody else's power at some point. So once in a while you kiss ass. So what? Either you make your peace with that early, or you end up living your life as a crank and a misfit.

You can be a drunk. You can be a survivor of abuse. You can be an ex-con. You can be a homeless person. You can lose all your money or your job or a husband or a wife, or the worst thing imaginable, a child. You can lose your marbles. You can be standing inside your own failure, a small sad stone in your throat, and still you are beautiful, your story is worth hearing, because you--you rare and phenomenal misfit--are the only one in the world who can tell the story the way that only you can.

Writing has nothing to do with pretty manners, and less to do with sportsmanship or restraint [...] Every writer begins as a subversive, if in nothing more than the antisocial means by which he earns his keep. Finally, every fantasist who cannibalizes himself knows that misfortune is his friend, that grief feeds and sharpens his fancy, that hatred is as sufficient a spur to creation as love (and a world more common) and that without an instinct for lunacy he will come to nothing.

I do not know of any salvation for society except through eccentrics, misfits, dissenters, people who protest.

And my experience in the music scene had shown me that there were places for places in the world where misfits were welcome.

Every organization has an allotted number of positions to be filled by misfits.

A misfit like me getting anywhere in Hollywood as I somehow have, seemed, certainly at the time of 'Spanking The Monkey,' kind of out of reach, or not a very realistic take.

Anybody that goes to the theater, I think we're all misfits, so we ended up on stage or in the audience.

Beware of a misfit occupation. . . . Consider carefully your natural bent, whether for business or a profession.

I strode among giants, friends tell me now, though at the time I felt more like a misfit associating with oddballs.

I love stories about misfits and underdogs.

I should be so lucky to be a misfit. I aspire to be a misfit.

I got to actually tattoo one of the members of The Misfits. The very first tattoo I ever did was this Misfits skull.

I like playing misfits, I like playing oddballs, I like playing characters with rough edges.

I love playing music. And that's what it's all about.

San Francisco has always been a haven for misfits and weirdos. I'm both of those, which is why I came here.

It used to be said that Pluto is a misfit. But now we know Earth is the misfit. This is the most populous class of planet in our solar system and we have never sent a mission to this class.

Ive felt the pressure of wanting to be known as a young actress rather than just Alisha from Misfits.

I was always a bit of a loose cannon, then again I was always the artistic one: bit of a social misfit. I probably still am.

We didn't call it a sport necessarily, and skaters definitely weren't thought of as athletes, we were thought of as misfits.

Anything that causes you to change who you are just to fit in is not good for you.

We knew that Cecilia had killed herself because she was a misfit, because the beyond called to her, and we knew that her sisters, once abandoned, felt her calling from that place, too.

Welcome to the island of misfit toys.

Anyway, I do not want you thinking that I or Addie or Joe or Skeezie feel sorry for ourselves. We do not. Other people may call us names or think we're weird or whatever, but that does not mean we believe them. We may be misfits, but we're okay. Leastwise, in our own eyes we are, and that's all that matters.

From day one it was like society was this violent, complicated dance and everybody had taken lessons but me. Knocked to the floor again, climbing to my feet each time, bloody and humiliated. Always met with disapproving faces, waiting for me to leave so I'd stop fucking up the party. The wanted to push me outside, where the freaks huddled in the cold. Out there with the misfits, the broken, the glazed-eye types who can only watch as the normals enjoy their shiny new cars and careers and marriages and vacations with the kids. The freaks spend their lives shambling around, wondering how they got left out, mumbling about conspiracy theories and bigfoot sightings. Their encounters with the world are marked by awkward conversations and stifled laughter, hidden smirks and rolled eyes. And worst of all, pity.

How did the name misfit even come about?" Sam asked. "It's so... dumb." Willo laughed. "Well, it's really not," she said. "We used to call them all sorts of slang terms: kooks, greasers, killjoys, chumps, and we had to keep changing the name as times changed. We used nerds for a long time, and then we started calling them dweebs." Willo hesitated. "And then a group of kids wasn't so nice to your mom." "I had braces," Deana said. "I had pimples. I had a perm. You do the math." She smiled briefly, but Sam could tell the pain was still there. Deana continued: "And I worked here most of the time so I really didn't get a chance to do a lot with friends after school. It was hard." This time, Willo reached out to rub her daughter's leg. "Your mom was pretty down one Christmas," she said. "All of the kids were going on a ski trip to a resort in Boyne City, but she had to stay here and work during the holiday rush. She was moping around one night, lying on the couch and watching TV..." "... stuffing holiday cookies in my mouth," Deana added. "... and Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer came on. She was about to change the channel, but I made her sit back down and watch it with me. Remember the part about the Island of Misfit Toys?" Sam nodded. Willo continued. "All of those toys that were tossed away and didn't have a home because they were different: the Charlie-in-the-Box, the spotted elephant, the train with square wheels, the cowboy who rides an ostrich..." "... the swimming bird," Sam added with a laugh. "And I told your mom that all of those toys were magical and perfect because they were different," Willo said. "What made them different is what made them unique." Sam looked at her mom, who gave her a timid smile. "I walked in early the next morning to open the pie pantry, and your mom was already in there making donuts," Willo said. "She had a big plate of donuts that didn't turn out perfectly and she looked up at me and said, very quietly, 'I want to start calling them misfits.' When I asked her why, she said, 'They're as good as all the others, even if they look a bit different.' We haven't changed the name since.

He’s always been attracted to broken things. He was the kind of boy who talked the bad girls through their problems, who defended them and didn’t take advantage. He was sensitive to his stuffed animals’ feelings, rotating their position on his bed so that a new plush animal would occupy pride of place at his pillowside every night. Soon I became first and foremost on that pillow; princess of the island of misfit toys.

If you constantly look stupid somewhere, you might be a genius but in the wrong place. Average minds fit in anywhere, It’s intelligence that doesn’t fit.

If you are one of those people who has the ability to make it down to the bottom of the ocean, the ability to swim the dark waters without fear, the astonishing ability to move through life's worst crucibles and not die, then you also have the ability to bring something back to the surface that helps others in a way that they cannot achieve themselves.