Charles Spurgeon Quotes

Who you are vs. who you wish you were: Who wins?

I love playing ego and insecurity combined.

There's a constant struggle between my ears about who I am and what I mean to the world.

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

I have a great deal of experience in justifying myself to myself.

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.

The person you are most afraid to contradict is yourself.

Even now, I wonder how much of my life is convinced.

Weary of myself, and sick of asking What I am, and what I ought to be, At this vessel's prow I stand, which bears me Forwards, forwards, o'er the starlit sea.

I wonder how I seem to them. They must see someone I don't see. Someone capable and strong. Someone I can't be; someone I can be.

We shared the smile of recognizing ourselves in each other, how many imposters do I have? Do we all make the same mistakes, or has one of us gotten it right, or even just a bit less wrong, am I the imposter?

There’s just something unsettling about studying your reflection. It’s not a matter of being dissatisfied with your face or of being embarrassed by your vanity. Maybe it’s that when you gaze into your own eyes, you don’t see what you wish to see—or glimpse something that you wish weren’t there.

Should I be what I think? But I think about being so many things!

I'm a really restless person; I'm tired of the way I sounded or looked yesterday. So it's hard to hang onto this image of me as this young Swedish female in this world.

The most miserable pettifogging in the world is that of a man in the court of his own consciences.

Do you ever wake up in the morning, look in the mirror and think, something's not accurate?

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

God save me from myself.

I could imagine myself becoming one of Marla's stories.

Beneath the surface of our daily life, in the personal history of many of us, there runs a continuous controversy between an Ego that affirms and an Ego that denies.

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

When I cry - when I let myself cry - that's who I cry for. I don't cry for myself. I cry for the Cassie that's gone. And I wonder what that Cassie would think of me. The Cassie who kills.

I didn't tell him that what I was most scared of, most haunted by, was something I didn't understand and could never run away from. It was myself.

Whatever this feeling is - this is what I have been praying for. And this is also what I have been praying to.

I've gone through a lot of different phases on what I do and why I do it - morally and ethically. I've tortured myself about it, especially in dealing with success and money.