Best 2380 quotes in «identity quotes» category

Remember that although technique is important, there are other issues in art making that should take precedence. When the strongest thing in an artwork is technique, the subject is vanity. Art must have a higher subject. Something else must rise to the top. A work of art is born in the desire for something—to explore something, be it formal (understanding light, color, or objects in space), political, or emotional. The creative act takes in everything about you—the images and creative means of who you are and where you come from, added to the world you see and hope for. The technique you learn should always be in the service of this.

Remember that every person who you come into contact to on any given day has a story that is probably far more amazing than you will imagine and no one is going to just offer up their entire life's worth of experiences to you because you want them to. It takes time to draw someone's story out from within them. It takes trust. It takes sincerity and dedication. Keep in mind that each and every interaction you have with all those people on a daily basis is a unique opportunity to develop any kind of relationship with that person that the two of you might want to be a part of. It doesn't matter how you meet them or what it is that you do with them. It can be as mundane as waving to them in the morning as they leave their driveway, or it can be as huge as saving someone's life in a moment of uncertainty and sacrifice. Each person has the potential to become a friend or a lover or to simply teach you something important and then slip back into the endless rush of other bodies moving about the planet around us. Don't pass these chances up too often, or you'll get lost in the tide yourself.

Reverend Harper: Have you ever tried to persuade him that he wasn't Teddy Roosevelt? Abby Brewster: Oh, no. Martha Brewster: Oh, he's so happy being Teddy Roosevelt. Abby Brewster: Oh... Do you remember, Martha, once, a long time ago, we thought if he'd be George Washington, it might be a change for him, and we suggested it. Martha Brewster: And do you know what happened? He just stayed under his bed for days and wouldn't be anybody.

Roots are for trees, not people.

Rosie had to keep her room neat enough so James would not freak out, but not so neat that they could figure it all out, break the code, of who you truly were, what you were up to, your values, your truest parts. ... you were layer upon layer of ideas and erasures and new ideas and soul and images. [p. 68]

Roughly speaking: to say of two things that they are identical is nonsense, and to say of one thing that it is identical with itself is to say nothing.

Rural and traditional escapism. That’s my angle. Places and events where we are free to relax and be ourselves, where nobody tells us to hurry along or conform or grow up. Somewhere we can properly live.

Se amava quel viso non indulgente, era perché era netto, espressivo e risoluto. Vedeva, o gli sembrava di vedere, come tali qualità fossero state mascherate o soffocate da atteggiamenti più convenzionali: una modestia simulata, un'appropriata pazienza, un disprezzo che si spacciava per calma. Al suo peggio - oh, lui la vedeva chiaramente, malgrado la possessione che esercitava su di lui - al suo peggio guardava in basso e di traverso e sorrideva timidamente, e questo sorriso era quasi una smorfia meccanica, perché era una bugia, una convenzione, un breve forzato riconoscimento delle aspettative del mondo. Lu aveva visto subito, così gli pareva, ciò che lei era in essenza, seduta alla tavola di Crabb Robinson ad ascoltare dispute maschili, credendosi osservatrice inosservata. Se, rifletté, la maggior parte degli uomini avesse visto la durezza e la fierezza e la tirannia, sì, la tirannia di quel volto, se ne sarebbe ritratta. Il suo destino sarebbe stato di essere amata solo da timidi inetti, segretamente desiderosi che lei li punisse o li comandasse, o da anime candide, convinte che la fredda aria di delicato riserbo esprimesse una sorta di purezza femminile che tutti a quei tempi facevano mostra di desiderare. Ma lui aveva capito immediatamente che lei era per lui, che lei aveva qualcosa in comune con lui, lei com'era veramente o avrebbe potuto essere, se fosse stata libera.

See, the world is narrowing. We each live in a bubble of attitude. Everything tailored for us. No happenstance, only what I already am and know. At a certain point I find my shape is less here.' A palm flat on his chest. 'More out there.' Laying the palm on his keyboard.

See over there, I can be me, he says. I smile but it makes me sad. I haven't found any safe spaces. Damien says, you're safe with me. Until I'm not. He raises an eyebrow. With you I mean, I add. I dream about an internship on the West Coast, but there is nothing for me to do. I am not the president's daughter. I've never met a movie star. I barely watch television.

SELFHOOD AND DISSOCIATION The patient with DID or dissociative disorder not otherwise specified (DDNOS) has used their capacity to psychologically remove themselves from repetitive and inescapable traumas in order to survive that which could easily lead to suicide or psychosis, and in order to eke some growth in what is an unsafe, frequently contradictory and emotionally barren environment. For a child dependent on a caregiver who also abuses her, the only way to maintain the attachment is to block information about the abuse from the mental mechanisms that control attachment and attachment behaviour.10 Thus, childhood abuse is more likely to be forgotten or otherwise made inaccessible if the abuse is perpetuated by a parent or other trusted caregiver. In the dissociative individual, ‘there is no uniting self which can remember to forget’. Rather than use repression to avoid traumatizing memories, he/she resorts to alterations in the self ‘as a central and coherent organization of experience. . . DID involves not just an alteration in content but, crucially, a change in the very structure of consciousness and the self’ (p. 187).29 There may be multiple representations of the self and of others. Middleton, Warwick. "Owning the past, claiming the present: perspectives on the treatment of dissociative patients." Australasian Psychiatry 13.1 (2005): 40-49.

Self-image can be improved by gaining new hobbies and skills. The basis of this is: in order to love oneself, one must be someone worth loving. It is easy to feel upset about one’s body if one spends all their time watching Netflix or cruising Facebook. To feel good about oneself, one must improve themselves and take their focus and apply it to things outside themselves.

Semantic search requires three things: Trust, Authority and Reputation. All three revolve around your digital profiles, their activity and the sentiment levels and engagement that each generates. Semantic search also requires differentiation – the ability of search to understand the “uniqueness” of you.

Self under self, a pile of selves I stand Threaded on time, and with metaphysic hand Lift the farm like a lid and see Farm within farm, and in the centre, me.

Sé una cuerda para mi guitarra, agua. Los conquistadores han llegado y los antiguos conquistadores han pasado. Es difícil que recuerde mi cara en los espejos. Sé mi memoria y veré lo que he perdido. كُنْ لِجيتارَتي وَتَراً أَيُّها ٱلْماءُ؛ قَدْ وَصَلَ ٱلْفاتِحُون وَمَضى ٱلْفاتِحونَ ٱلْقُدَامَى. مِنَ ٱلصَّعْبِ أَنْ أَتَذَكَّرَ وَجْهِي ...في ٱلْمَرَايَا. فَكُنْ أَنْتَ ذَاكِرَتِي كَيْ أَرى ما فَقَدْت

Sexuality is one of the most important ways in which we identify, establish, and maintain our boundaries.

She breathes all the political gases that flow around this, but she never seems to inhale them.

She couldn't know anyone, but someone still needed her. She couldn't be anyone, but she could still love.

She had generated alternative versions of herself. She had insisted at brutal cost on these conversions. Layering her life, only to strip it bare. Only to be alone in the end. Her life had been paired down to its solitary components.

She knew where she stood, when she stood among books.

She had performed as a shape-shifter with no sense of identity.

She fixed a smile that she hoped looked authentic. Pretending to be content continued to be hard work.

She isn't like any of the girls I ever knew, or any of the girls I was myself.

She resented being told constantly that she was stupid, when she knew she wasn't.

She means it doesn't come off, Dana... The black. She means the devil with people who say you're anything but what you are.

She said to herself: 'Is not the gown the natural raiment of extremity? What nation, what religion, what ghost, what dream has not worn it—infants, angels, priests, the dead; why—should not the doctor, in the grave dilemma of his alchemy, wear his dress?' She thought: 'He dresses to lie beside himself, who is so constructed that love, for him, can be only something special; in a room that giving back evidence of his occupancy, is as mauled as the last agony.

She sang lead, and I belted out the background voice that just repeated, "You're everything everything everything," and I felt like I was. You're both the fire and the water that extinguishes it. You're the narrator, the protagonist, and the sidekick. You're the storyteller and the story told. You are somebody's something, but you are also you.

She scraped her spoon around the bottom of the honey jar. She was aware, she said, that this was also a cultural malaise, but it had invaded her inner world to the extent that she felt herself summed up, and was beginning to question the point of continuing to exist day in and day out when 'Anne's life' just about covered it.

She thinks she is white,' they used to sneer, and that was as bad as a curse.

She started to speak, but then stopped. Anything she could think of to say seemed a mistake. In fact, speech in general seemed a mistake. It struck her all at once that dealing with other human beings was an awful lot of work. from Back When We Were Grownups.

She waited with Billy Slick while Carrot went on the errand, and for something to say, she said, ‘Billy Slick doesn’t sound much like a goblin name?’ Billy made a face. ‘Too right! Granny calls me Of the Wind Regretfully Blown. What kind of name is that, I ask you? Who’s going to take you seriously with a name like that? This is modern times, right?’ He looked at her defiantly, and she thought: and so one at a time we all become human – human werewolves, human dwarfs, human trolls... the melting pot melts in one direction only, and so we make progress.

she was a different person when she sang. Her singing was a deep, yearning subconscious desire to go back to a time when the Nepali identity wasn't sullied by external forces.

She thought, I need no cup. I am Chalice. I am filling with the grief and hurt and fear of my demesne; the shattered earthlines weigh me down; I am brimming with the needs of my people.

She was tired of everyone deciding her life for her. She was ready to figure out who she really was--not what anyone else told her to be.

She was the same person I had known. Had always known. Just a version that was more completely her.

She was right. After all, if she herself had wondered whether she was Indian enough -- she, who had always been to me a sort of epitome of Indian -- then who could be? Who could claim the sole right or way to an identity?

She would have to learn the lesson every day: that, sometimes, all that will define a person — instill within them dignity and purpose — all the human answers, are frozen in a few moments, a few days, and all the days to come are just a looking back.

She was the only child of an interracial couple, one half of which was disabled. When she was growing up, her straw-headed classmates asked her curtly, "What are you?

She would always believe that he was someone else, that he wasn't himself but some fanciful idea of a foreign person; she would always feel like she was someone special because she had condescended to be with someone everyone else hated. His presence would prove to the world that she was a good person, an educated person, a liberal person. Noa didn't care about being Korean when he was with her; in fact, he didn't care about being Korean or Japanese with anyone. He wanted to be, to be just himself; he wanted to forget himself sometimes. But that wasn't possible. It would never be possible with her.

Show me your books and I will tell you who you are.

Sich mit diesem oder jenem zu identifizieren, ist also ein normaler Vorgang. Gefährlich wird es, sobald eine einzige Identität bestimmend wird, sobald man nur noch Muslim ist oder Christ oder Deutscher, Iraner oder meinetwegen Anhänger eines bestimmten Fußballclubs oder eines Popstars. Dann wird aus der pragmatischen Einschränkung, die jede Art von Identifizierung bedeutet, eine reale Verstümmelung der Persönlichkeit.

Sleep is where we touch what is better left unexamined. There, the whole of life is bundled up, dwindled. There the carefully hoarded and enjoyed personality, our only treasure and at the same time our only defense must die into the ultimate truth of things, the black lightning that splits and destroys all, the positive, unquestionable nothingness.

Silence has built walls, walls that I attempt to break by pedaling faster, only to be imprisoned a hundred feet down the road.

Since the end of the postwar economic boom, certain strategies have been intensified to stimulate consumption, especially strategies aimed at American youth that project sexual activity as instant fulfillment and violence as the locus of machismo identity. This market activity has contributed greatly to the disorientation and confusion of American youth, and those with less education and fewer opportunities bear the brunt of this cultural chaos.

(...) słowo "etnopatologia" stało się jego ulubionym terminem - pod koniec życia uzywał go często i z wyraźną przyjemnością. Termin też oznaczał dla niego pewne etniczne zakrzywienia, wzajemne przenikanie i wpływy - krótko mówiąc pewną krzywiznę, "nieprawidłowości" lokalnej przestrzeni etnograficznej. W tej części świata (Kłakocki w swoich tekstach nazywał ją zawsze Północną Sarmatią, zaś w rozmowach prywatnych Wielkim Szpitalem) nie ma nic określonego raz na zawsze: człowiek kładzie się spać jako Bałt, a budzi jako Słowianin, wychodzi z domu jako Polak, wraca jako Niemiec; otoczenie wciąż usiłuje mu wmówić, kim jest i kim być nie może. Oczywiście, większość zdrowo myślących ludzi w całym tym zamieszaniu podaje się za "tutejszych". Kłakocki, które całe swoje życie poświęcił fascynacjom początkowo polskim, litewskim i żmudzkim, w końcu zaś, ostatecznie już, białoruskim pragnął nieco zmienić tę perspektywę: chciał być wszystkimi naraz.

Social class positioning influences all aspects of everyday interaction – how to talk, if to talk and when, whom to trust, whether or not to plan or risk, what can or cannot be done, how to belong, and who to be. Of course, how people respond to these social interactions depends on how social class intersects with the meanings and practices associated with other significant sociocultural categories (gender, race, ethnicity, age, cohort, religion, geography, sexual orientation) that also influence psychological tendencies.

Slavery has been outlawed in most arab countries for years now but there are villages in jordan made up entirely of descendants of runaway Saudi slaves. Abdulrahman knows he might be free, but hes still an arab. No one ever wants to be the arab - its too old and too tragic, too mysterious and too exasperating, and too lonely for anyone but an actual arab to put up with for very long. Essentially, its an image problem. Ask anyone, Persian, Turks, even Lebanese and Egyptians - none of them want to be the arab. They say things like, well, really we're indo-russian-asian european- chaldeans, so in the end the only one who gets to be the arab is the same little old bedouin with his goats and his sheep and his poetry about his goats and his sheep, because he doesnt know that he's the arab, and what he doesnt know wont hurt him.

Sky at night shows how vast the universe is, beyond the limit, filled with exuberant bodies, always evoking incertitude purpose of existense and one's identity, then i realize, im just a soul with no identity living a character in limitless scenes.

Slowly, but steadily, my feelings did start to change- feelings about myself as a woman and feelings about what sexuality really is and what it really isn't. I -like most everyone who identified as gay or lesbian -felt very comfortable, very at home in mu body in my lesbianism. One doesn't repent for a sin of identity in one session. Sins of identity have multiple dimensions, and throughout this journey, I have come to my pastor and his wife, friends in the Lord, and always to the Lord himself with different facets of my sin. I don't mean different incidents or examples of the same sin, but different facets of sin -how pride, for example, informed my decision-making, or how my unwillingness to forgive others had landlocked my heart in bitterness. I have walked this journey with help. There is no other way to do it I still walk this journey with help.

Society is a collection of selves perpetuating their myth.