This much I knew and know: I was making myself hideously uncomfortable by not narrowing my attention to details of life which were immediately important, and by refusing to believe what my neighbors believed.
I've made peace with myself. Good for you. That's the hardest war of all to win. Didn't say I won. Just stopped fighting.
Maybe that was the root of my dislike for her: she had what I wanted, which earned her my jealousy, and since I was ashamed of myself for wanting it, my scorn, as well.
My soul is a hidden orchestra; I know not what instruments, what fiddlestrings and harps, drums and tamboura I sound and clash inside myself. All I hear is the symphony.
A blanket could be used to help frowners smile. I’m only halfway through the process myself, which is why I’m smirking.
I'd trapped myself in a script.... But to be scripted at all is to be prepackaged, programmed, pinned to a page. Only the unwritten can truly live a life. So who I was, what I was, had to be unwritten.
I wondered about my inner child. In fact, I was troubled. Did I even have an inner child, I asked myself, given that, in essence, I’d just been born?
I think before I act---and then think again. I am not entirely a coward, but I do not lose myself in action as you do.
Trapped. Sinking. Can't be myself. Made into what other people expect. Is that everyone's fate? Were the great individualists the products of their friends who wanted a great individualist as a friend?
I thought to myself: if it’s true that every person has a star in the sky, mine must be distant, dim, and absurd. Perhaps I never had a star.
Did I love what I was doing, or did I love myself in doing it?
His parents were tiny people and knew how to dance. Scotty danced, too, with a variety of women, I’m sure, though I never acknowledged this to myself until years later. He knew charm.
I allowed myself a microscopic view into his ice-colored eyes. It was like viewing one of those photographs of the Arctic region – very foreign, exotic, clearly a place you’ve never dreamed of going.
He smiled. "How kind of you to confirm what I already know. Perhaps next you will introduce me to myself. I hear I am quite popular.
Yeah but I don’t know how to make myself go there. Maybe it might never happen again. AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!
Faith, the least exclusive club on Earth, has the craftiest doorman. Every time I've stepped through its wide-open doorway, I find myself stepping out on the street again.
I have a lot of work to do today; I need to slaughter memory, Turn my living soul to stone Then teach myself to live again.
I know that, for me, I need to try to cover myself while breastfeeding so that no one snaps a picture. If this wasn't the case, I probably wouldn't mind as much because my son is my biggest concern. My attitude is, if someone sees a little somethin' ...
I think the attitude I was trying to learn myself was to really try hard, to give a great effort, to really care, and to let the results go where they are going to go. But at the same time, I don't have to be happy, and I shouldn't be happy, with les...
I just try to try to keep an attitude that I don't know what I'm doing. Not to the point where I'm beating myself up, but I just go in thinking that I have a lot to learn. And I hope I still have that attitude 30 years from now.
I'm at peace with myself and where I am. In the past, I was always looking to see how everybody else was doing. I wasn't competitive, I was comparative. I just wanted to be where everybody else was. Now I've gotten to an age when I am not comparing a...
