Veronica Roth Quotes

The point of writing my name to you is that I see who you are, you see who I am... and that's what it's about.

I don't hurt or want for visibility, but people seem to forget pretty easily.

How will we know it’s us without our past?

She said I bet you dont remember me And I said only every other memory.

Now I am here - now read me - give me a name.

You say you are a nameless man. You are not to your wife and to your child. You will not long remain so to your immediate colleagues if you can answer their simple questions when they come into your office. You are not nameless to me. Do not remain nameless to yourself — it is too sad a way to be. Know your place in the world and evaluate yourself fairly, not in terms of the naïve ideals of your own youth, nor in terms of what you erroneously imagine your teacher's ideals are.

'And how, who am I? I will remember, if I can! I'm determined to do it!' But being determined didn't help much.

He raised his eyes. "Sister. See. This time I knew you." Asha's heart skipped a beat. "Theon?" His lips skinned back in what might have been a grin. Half his teeth were gone, and half those still left him were broken and splintered. "Theon," he repeated. "My name is Theon. You have to know your name.

The most dangerous thing you can do is know who you are.

I used to have a really sharp memory. And its loss has proven destabilizing from an identity perspective.

One forgets that one is one. I must try to remember this.

You have to name it to claim it

I realize then that it's not enough to know what someone is called. You have to know who they are.

I know who I am. I'm a dude playing a dude disguised as another dude.

But what I thought, and what I still think, and always will, is that she saw me. Nobody else has ever seen me — me, Jenny Gluckstein — like that. Not my parents, not Julian, not even Meena. Love is one thing — recognition is something else.

There is a stage you reach, Deagle thinks, a time somewhere in early middle age, when your past ceases to be about yourself. Your connection to your former life is like a dream or delirium, and that person who you once were is merely a fond acquaintance, or a beloved character from a storybook. This is how memory becomes nostalgia. They are two very different things - the same way that a person is different from a photograph of a person.

They see her differently now, as somebody. And isn't that what everyone wants? To be seen?

Whether you know it or not, we leave parts of ourselves wherever we go.

I came alone and I go as a stranger. I do not know who I am, nor what I have been doing.

What's your name again? That's right. I'm so glad you know your name.

I know not whence I came, nor whither I go, nor who I am.

How can we know who is the other until we know who is the self?

I wanted only a familiar voice, someone who knew me. Not some earlier, larval version of myself. . .

And yes, I know it's you; and that is what we will come to, sooner or later, when it's even darker than it is now, when the snow is colder, when it's darkest and coldest and candles are no longer any use to us and the visibility is zero: yes. It's still you. It's still you.

I often think how celebrated I am. / It is difficult not to think how celebrated I am. / And if I think how celebrated I am / They know who know that I am new / That is I knew I know how celebrated I am / And after all it astonishes even me.