Karl Lagerfeld Quotes

I was actually looking for answers where I kept asking myself - what am I doing?

I contemplate the idea that maybe I'm an alcoholic. I get this occassionally, the need to define myself as something-or-the-other, and at various times in my life have wondered if I'm a Goth, a homosexul, a Jew, a Catholic or a manic depressive, whether I am adopted, or have a hole in my heart, or possess the ability to move objects with the power of my mind, and have always, most regretfully, come to the conclusion that I'm none of the above. The fact is I'm actually not ANYTHING.

You spend so much time wondering who you are, don't you think? You flounder about, searching for your identity, when most of the time it is plain as the nose on your face. You struggle with questions of purpose and need, and forget that the answers are found mostly inside yourselves.

The final mystery is oneself... Who can calculate the orbit of his own soul.

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

How can you spend hours every day trying in small ways to figure out who you are, then have a near-stranger give you a sentence of yourself that says it better than you ever could?

On him does death lie heavily, who, but too well known to all, dies to himself unknown.

No one knows what I am and really, I wonder if I do, at the end of the day.

We read books to find out who we are.

I do not know who I am, where I am going - and I am the one who has to decide the answers to these hideous questions.

I am still so naïve; I know pretty much what I like and dislike; but please, don’t ask me who I am. A passionate, fragmentary girl, maybe?

If you ask me to play myself, I will not know what to do. I do not know who or what I am.

I have been a woman for fifty years, and I've never yet been able to discover precisely what it is I am.

One of my problems is to find the self.

Who among us is so certain of our identity? Who hasn't been asked, 'What's your background?' and hesitated, even for a split second, to answer their inquisitor. Howard Jacobson's 'The Finkler Question' forces us to ask that of ourselves, and that's why it's a must read, no matter what your background.

I do not know myself, and God forbid that I should.

There are times I can't even figure myself out.

I still don't know quite what I'm supposed to do or be.

I don't think anyone really knows me.

I'm not even sure who I really am sometimes.

To every man in the world there is one person of whom he knows little: whom he would never recognize if he met him walking down the street, whose motives are a mystery to him. That is himself.

The only thing that you can do is do jobs and see if people respond to that. I'm always holding onto the fact that I don't really know who I am. Hopefully I won't compartmentalize myself because of that, because I'm completely ignorant of the whole.

You can spend time self-identifying and figuring out what you are on that, but at some point, you just want to be who you are and not walk around telling people.

These are the only two situations possible, and you are in the sad situation. Everybody may know about you - who you are - but you yourself are completely oblivious of your transcendence, of your real nature, of your authentic being. This is the only sadness in life. You can find many excuses, but the real sadness is this: you don't know who you are. How can a person be happy not knowing who he is, not knowing from where he comes, not knowing where he is going? A thousand and one problems arise because of this basic self-ignorance.

Can you question who you are? And are you comfortable with not knowing?