Gia Coppola Quotes

Adolescence isn't just about prom or wearing sparkly dresses.

Juno MacGuff: I don't know what kind of girl I am.

During those formative times, I really didn't know what was going on, and I was sort of torn in a thousand different directions with how I felt about what I was doing.

When you get your,'Who am I?', question right, all of your,'What should I do?' questions tend to take care of themselves

A restless spirit who can't reach his goal, can't find a home until I've found my soul.

If childhood is still a state, it is now chiefly a state of confusion.

Even though Wisconsin is the only place I want to be, there was a time when everything felt like it was imploding in my head. It was a whole lot of "me" and it was a little unbearable at times - borderline embarrassing, even. It didn't last long, though, and as soon as I got home everything flooded back. It all boils down to that common denominator of stillness and trying to self-discover - I guess it just feels good when I'm there.

I hold a beast, an angel, and a madman in me, and my enquiry is as to their working, and my problem is their subjugation and victory, down throw and upheaval, and my effort is their self-expression.

Self-realization sounds good. But what if only an enraged dwarf emerges?

I've been having a midlife crisis since I was four years old.

You're full of insecurities in your 20s - most of the time your heart's being broken, you're having a difficult time finding out who the hell you are, and I was trying to do that in the full glare of the public.

The time has come to get clear about who you are and what you choose. There must come moments in every person's life when a decision is necessary. A big decision. A major choice. Such a time is now. What you get to choose today is who you are and who you choose to be, and what you wish to experience in your life. Remember, not to decide is to decide.

It seems to me that the years between eighteen and twenty-eight are the hardest, psychologically .

We are all born with a rut radar. Mine is finely wired, a little oversensitive maybe. Perhaps just a bit hyperactive. Twenty steady boyfriends before turning 16, a new best friend 12 times a year, switched college majors every time I met someone who seemed exactly like the sort of person I really, really wanted to be. I'm not fickle. I'm just never there yet.

...[She] felt as if she were both a stranger to herself and more herself than she'd ever been.

You don't always have to know who you are. Sometimes, it's enough just to know what to do next.

I've known both misery and happiness, lived in so many different skins it is impossible for one skin to claim me. And I have felt like a wayfarer on an alien planet at times - walking, running, wondering about what brought me to this particular place, and why. But once I was here the dreams started moving in, and I went about devouring them as they devoured me.

She left me then, surrounded by my extravagantly simple finery and I sat for a long time, uncomfortable both with the person I had been and the person I was finally becoming. Caught between the two of them, I felt rather lonely, as one often does with a new acquaintance.

I whispered, 'I am too young,' and then, 'I am old enough'; wherefore I threw a penny to find out if I might love.

All through the night, she battled herself. Or battled to know herself. She fell apart and then put herself back together and then she fell apart again and put herself back together, over and over.

He had been someone before. That person had been the result of a lifetime of choices, good and bad. And like it or not, he was drawing closer to that identity now. Not the freedom of infinite variety, but the tyranny of a decision made, a path walked, a life lived. What if he didn't like the view

You make some big grandoise decision about what you need to do, or who you need to be, and then circumstances arise that immediately reveal to you how little you understood about yourself.

Later, her first intense, serious love affair, yes then she'd lost something more tangible, if undefinable: her heart? her independence? her control of, definition of, self? That first true loss, the furious bafflement of it. And never again quite so assured, confident.

I reached a point in my life where I didn't really like who I was.I was married to an amazing woman. I had children, and yet there was frustration.

It comes with being sixteen," Mom said. "You teenagers, you go into a cocoon when you turn fifteen and don't come out for years." "So they become butterflies when they finally come out?" my little sister Christina asked. "No," Mom said. "They're still caterpillars, only now they're big fat caterpillars that smell.