Sara Gruen Quotes

I look at myself but I'm missing. I know myself: it’s not me.

He had come so far from himself that I don't think he knew who he was anymore.

I'm not much like myself any more.

When did I stop being me?

I felt like I was literally losing myself as being the joyful, spiritual, passionate, exciting woman that I naturally had been.

I keep thinking that if I could just unzip my skin, step out of this body, then I would see who I really am.“ She nods her head slowly. „What do you think you‘d look like?” “Smaller, for a start.

For myself, I do not now know in any concrete human terms wherein my individuality consists. In my present human form of consciousness I simply cannot tell.

You get tangled up in your own ego of how you're perceived. You can lose your way.

I have become a different person. I don't know whether this person is better, he certainly is not happier.

I look in the mirror, and what I see is someone who has never grown up - a crashing sentimentalist who alternates between great heights and black depths.

I don't even recognize myself sometimes.

Losing It Some days I think I'm losing my mind. What seems so clear most of the time becomes a big question mark. Am I really the way I percieve myself, or is the person others see the truth of me? I wait for answers, but inside I know I have to go out and find them. And answers like knowledge, are not always where we first look for them.

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.

Day after day I look in the mirror and I still see something

Faces ...I ...don't ...know ...the real ...me

On the streets of the city They have taken my Who-I-Am As well as my What-I-Was And now I am desperate for them both Again

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

If there is any human tragedy, there is only one, and it occurs when we forget who we are and remain silent while a stranger takes up residence inside our skin.

Am I too fast, too facile? I do not know. I do not know myself sometimes, or how to measure and name and count out the grains that make me what I am.

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.

Sometimes I try to lose my identity, and I can't get rid of it!

I know myself," he cried, "but that is all-

In short: I felt my existence was tainted, in some subtle but essential way.

I have a problem with being a hero, but that's another problem.

I was just struggling with my inner vachette and pondering the depths of my own inhumanity.