This is me. Take it or leave it.
The selfie is the new way to look someone right in the eye and say, 'Hello, this is me.'
Uh, homes, we are what we are. Black, white, Brown, yellow. Point is don't be ashamed of who you are, man. You wanna call it sterotyping. Hey, This is me, Órale vato, this is who I am. Take me or leave me. You don't like me? Turn around and look the other way. Its that simple.
There comes a time when you have to stand up and be counted.
Whether you like me, or hate me, this is me.
Humility means coming to the root of the matter, honestly looking at yourself and saying: "This is me for better or for worse."
I made a little money. And like the Bible says, I was enjoying the fruits of my labor. This is my comeback. This is me doing what I love to do.
Love it or hate it, this is me, this is who I am!
I want to be a man who is truthful and who won't let pride get in the way of my ripping myself open to my partner and saying, 'Here I am. This is me.' I feel there's something powerful when a man reaches a point in his life when he can be completely vulnerable.
We know one another. This is the present. There is no past and no future. Here I am washing my hands, and the cracked mirror shows me to myself, suspended as it were, in time; this is me, this moment will not pass.
Every human being must have a point at which he stands against the culture, where he says, this is me and the damned world can go to hell.
The way that I sing, what I sing about, what I wear, who I am, this is me. I was born this way.
All I want is beautiful. I mean, I like grey hair, I love wrinkles. But this is me.
Vulnerability is the essence of romance. It's the art of being uncalculated, the willingness to look foolish, the courage to say, 'This is me, and I'm interested in you enough to show you my flaws with the hope that you may embrace me for all that I am but, more important, all that I am not.'
You have to follow your own voice. You have to be yourself when you write. In effect, you have to announce, 'This is me, this is what I stand for, this is what you get when you read me. I'm doing the best I can - buy me or not - but this is who I am as a writer.
This is me apologizing. I am a fool, a bird-brain, a liar and a horse-thief. I wouldn't touch a superlative again with an umbrella.
This Is Me”: ”For the record, I am not gay and all my sexual experiences have been straight. I'm attracted to women, I love children and aspire to have a family one day … I know what it's like to grow up and be told what your sexuality is, then realising that it's not the full reality. I was accused of being gay before I knew who I was.
Is it needy? It's not. We don't need each other. We just really, really enjoy each other. And we're good together. We're good people together. And I have the funniest feeling. I can really, truly touch this all, this happiness and the sadness too, I can trace all of it with my fingers. It isn't theoretical or distant. This feels like me. This is me. I love him, and, for the first time in a relationship, I also like me. Every time he says "I love you," I answer, "I believe you.
The minute you finish a piece of writing it doesn't belong to you, you don't write it any more, it belongs to you, the reader, the listener, the audience. So the less you know about whether or not this is me talking about my life or this is me talking about your life, I think the better. Then it can belong to you and it can live outside of the moment in which it was conceived.
Just because people are calling you skinny doesn't mean I'm like, 'Yay!' No! You're telling me I don't look right. This is me, this is my body - I have accepted it.
Pierre looked into the sky, into the depths of the retreating, twinkling stars. "And all this is mine, and all this is in me, and all this is me!" thought Pierre. "And all this they've caught and put in a shed and boarded it up!
In other words, it's one of those books you thrust on your partner with an incredulous cry of "This is me!
People were standing up everywhere shouting, "This is me! This is me!" Every time you looked at them they stood up and told you who they were, and the truth of it was that they had no more idea who or what they were than he had. They believed their flashing signs, too. They ought to be standing up and shouting, "This isn't me! This isn't me!" They would if they had any decency. "This isn't me!" Then you might know how to proceed through the flashing bullshit of this world.
Jules has always been one of those women that men go crazy about because she has enough self-confidence to say this is me, take it or leave it. And, invariably, they take it. Or at least try to. They love the fact that she doesn’t wear makeup. That her clothes, on her tiny, petite frame, are a mishmash of whatever she happens to pull out of the wardrobe that morning. That her laugh is huge and infectious, and, most of all, that she listens. She loves life, and people, and makes time for them, and even before Jamie came along men were forever falling in love with her.
Nobody knows I'm Elvis, nobody knows this is me. After all of my tries, I've got the perfect disguise.
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