Best 95 quotes in «relatable quotes» category

The coat was black and drab and obviously purchased for the sake of utility without any thought of fashion. It's the type of sacrifice you make when you're a bigger person.

The future will be better tomorrow.

The old adage of forgive and forget became a trudge through quicksand on a beach as high tide crashed onto the shore.

There was still a question in her eyes-- one that she did not like to put into words.

(Therapist:) "It's interesting that you drew yourself with this little golden crown on your head. What does the crown mean to you?" "That's not a crown," she told him. "That's a nimbus of outrage.

Today I’m a “sociopath”, A.K.A. feeling very antisocial and ignorant of human emotion. Code for: I’m writing… leave me alone

When the occasional stranger approaches me at a party to say, "Hey, you're Felicia Day. Let's talk about that comic book you were tweeting about last week!" it's the greatest thing in the world. Because it saves me from having to stand in the corner awkwardly, drinking all the Sprite, and then leaving after ten minutes without saying good-bye to my host.

When she sat down to write, she didn't have to wade back into the story slowly, waiting to get used to the temperature.

Working is much easier than school, because someone approaches you once a week with money. That never happens at school, unless you're a drug dealer

As a filmmaker, you are constantly having the discussion with your team about whether something is "relatable".

Short term satisfaction will never lead to something timeless.

You're quite tall.' Just what a girl wants to be reminded of.

Almost any exhibition of complete self-sufficiency draws a stunned tribute from me.

As much as we strive towards the light, we still want to be embraced by the shadow.

Books, she thought, grew of themselves. She never had time to read them. Alas! even the books that had been given her, and inscribed by the hand of the poet himself: 'For her whose wishes must be obeyed' ... 'The happier Helen of our day' ... disgraceful to say, she had never read them.

But that's the way life goes most of the time: the thing you least count on comes along and ruins everything else you got planned.

By approaching your interactions through the lens of likability, you can expect to be happier, more comfortable, and more successful in establishing meaningful relationships.

Every time I blink, all I can see are my flaws. My body in a fun-house mirror. Hips too wide. Thighs too big. And a head too small for the rest of me.

Explore your own innermost thoughts to create content that will evoke deeply relatable emotions and passion in others.

Feeling like she really was just seven or eight, Claire sat down on the floor, books all around her, and she opened the last one she’d picked up. Even though it was dark, and even though her eyes couldn’t see the words, she knew them. Knew the little prince’s story as well as her own. She closed her eyes. She leaned her head forward against the book. And she sobbed.

Fiction described reality better than non-fiction.

...from sweaty-palmed anxiety blooms vivid imagination.

He grieved too, Klara said, for the loss of a certain idea of himself.

He inquired with the confidence of anyone trying free samples at a grocery store and putting on an Oscar-worthy performance of a person that was going to come back and buy it all later.

Her heart felt like it had been thrown around like a child on a twenty-foot seesaw--exhilarating highs followed by crashing lows, only to repeat with new joys and terrifying fears. It left her light-headed, off-balance, and a tiny bit nauseated.

He turned on hearing a noise, and perceiving me, shrieked loudly, and quitting the hut, ran across the fields with a speed of which his debilitated form hardly appeared capable.

He was no stranger to middle fingers anyways; in Texas he had worked for a graphic design company, and the art world is overflowing with such fingers. At times almost exclusively.

How am I supposed to make big decisions when I still have to sing the alphabet to myself to alphabetize stuff?

I am going to shrink and shrink until I am a dry fall leaf, complete with a translucent spine and brittle veins, blowing away in a stiff wind, up, up, up into a crisp blue sky.

I am what I am, and there's much about me that won't be changed with any amount of wishing or wanting. I'm sorry for that. I'd trade a great deal to share an afternoon in the hay with you, dust in the air and sweat on our skins and neither of us caring. But I'm afraid the experience would drive me mad. I am a creature of sterile environments. It's too late for me to change.

I can't help it. I'm a Slytherin." And I'm the worst kind of Slytherin. I'm the kind who's so stupidly in love with a Gryffindor, she can't even function. I'm the Draco from some shitty Drarry fic that the author abandoned after four chapters.

I didn’t want to fall in love. Looking at you gave me chills and kissing you made my knees weak. You made flowers grow and fill the space in my lungs which made it impossible for me to breathe. I’m trying to drench the memories and the blood that once pumped through my veins has been replaced with alcohol. My teeth has shattered from all the whiskey bottles and every morning I awake to throw up the poison I swallowed the night before as a hopeless attempt to forget the taste of your lips. I keep hearing the sound of your voice calling out my name as if it’s something I’m not allowed to forget.

I don't get why we call it a crush when it feels more like a curse.

I feel like if I hold things close, never share, then I never give anyone the opportunity to judge me.

I felt like laundry in a washing machine, when all I wanted was to be put on and become her favourite shirt.

If I open up, it gets me, Dad. It gets me, and I don't know if I'm strong enough to stand it.

Graceful has never been a word you immediately pinned to my physical prowess; a flailing, tumbling human version of Jenga was a tad closer to accuracy.

I hate Hera.

I have this thing where if someone likes me, I feel like I tricked them into it. Like I can't trust it. I'll fuck it up somehow, like with Hudson.

I know i barely talk and pretty much act like I'm not here, but I'm totally here and have a million things to say, and me being me is exactly as insane as you being you.

I know I exude a certain confidence, but I have a little secret: parties always make me just a little bit nervous! The anticipation. What dress I would wear. Who I would dance with. Would anyone die.

I love Nico

I'm a lunatic wandering around for scraps, I'm like every single miserable moron I've scorned, and pretended I didn't recognize. I'm all of them, every last ugly thing in a bad last-minute costume. I'm not different, not at all, not different from any other speck of a thing.

I'm forever observing, trying to learn how to be an adult human being by watching others, and I'm constantly in awe of how easy some people make it look. And then I feel certain something is wrong with me for not being able to do said normal, easy, things with ease

I'm tired of hurting from the people who leave me. I'm tired of getting comfortable with others. I tell you everything and you leave. It's like you're take what is good in me and all that is left in me is an empty shitty feeling.

Life is short ... so why waste it doing something dumb?

Please make me either relatable or terrible.

The inner machinations of my mind are an enigma.

Why do men fight for their servitude as stubbornly as though it were their salvation?

At this point, caffeine wasn't for pleasure, it was sheer survival.