Do you realize how many events, choices, that had to occur since the birth of the universe leading up to the making of you? Just exactly the way you are.
Maybe I don’t like being different . . . but I don’t want to be like everybody else, either.
You use a glass mirror to see your face; you use works of art to see your soul...
You’re much too straightforward to be able to pretend to be what you aren’t.
Can you remember who you were, before the world told you who you should be?