Quotes About Expression

she loathed all the IM and texting abbreviations and acronyms. She was a snob like that

However, you could have conveyed your enthusiasm for this idea with the use of only one exclamation point. Three is overkill.

You know I have trouble with colloquialisms, so I resent your shocked reaction.

You need songs that make you feel. Some make you strong, some make you weak. Some build determination, some tear you apart. But you need all of those.

I'm just shitting rainbows all over the place.

At school my boobs were bigger than all my friends' and I was afraid to show them. Now I feel like they make my outfits look better. They're like an accessory.

If you love somebody; You better let it out; Don't hold it back; While you're trying to figure it out; Cause the only real pain a heart can ever know; Is the sorrow of regret; When you don't let your feelings show. So, did you say it, Did you mean it?

Greatness is never achieved by trying to imitate the greatness of another. Greatness is chipping away at all that does not belong to you and then expressing yourself so truly that others can't help but recognize it.

Dear Die-ary, today I stuffed some dolls full of dead rats I put in the blender. I'm wondering if, maybe, there really is something wrong with me.

I don't do my work for any kind of group in particular, except for hobos, who just plain kick ass and light up my life.

I never killed anyone. I avoid going over that edge by writing about a guy who has taken a flying leap over it.

But I couldn't draw as fast as she requested. Thus, I tried to create the worst abomination of a comic that I could, so as to make her not want comics anymore. That abomination, my friends, was Happy Noodle Boy.

When the language one identifies with is far away, one does everything possible to keep it alive. Because words bring back everything: the place, the people, the life, the streets, the life, the sky, the flowers, the sounds. When you live without your own language you feel weightless and, at the same time, overloaded. Your breathe another type of air, at a different altitude. You are always aware of the difference.

Because in the end to learn a language, to feel connected to it, you have to have a dialogue, however childlike, however imperfect.

Without language you can't feel that you have a legitimate, respected presence. You are without a voice, without power.

In Bengali class, Gogol is taught to read and write his ancestral alphabet, which begins at the back of his throat with an unaspirated K and marches steadily across the roof of his mouth, ending with elusive vowels that hover outside his lips

It's a sort of literary act of survival. I don't have many words to express myself--rather, the opposite. I'm aware of a state of deprivation. And yet, at the same time, I feel free, light. I rediscover the reason that I write, the joy as well as the need.

avevo bisogno di una lingua differente: una lingua che fosse un luogo di affetto e di riflessione. —ANTONIO TABUCCHI

If I want to understand what moves me, what confuses me, what pains me—everything that makes me react, in short—I have to put it into words.

It's not the type of thing Bengali wives do. Like a kiss or caress in a Hindi movie, a husband's name is something intimate and therefore unspoken, cleverly patched over. And so, instead of saying Ashoke's name, she utters the interrogative that has come to replace it, which translates roughly as "Are you listening to me?

If the process of writing is a dream, the book cover represents the awakening.

I'm amazed at our impulse to express ourselves, explain ourselves, tell stories to one another.

The next time she visits her father she'll speak to him in English. Were her mother ever to stand before her, even if Bela could choose any language on earth in which to speak, she would have nothing to say. But no, that's not true. She remains in constant communication with her. Everything in Bela's life has been a reaction. I am who I am, she would say, I live as I do because of you.

In my case there is another distance, another schism. I don't know Bengali perfectly. I don't know how to read it, or even write it. I have an accent, I speak without authority, and so I've always perceived a disjunction between it and me. As a result I consider my mother tongue, paradoxically, a foreign language, too. As