When it comes to your inner critic, my advice is to not take advice from someone who doesn't like you. That's like returning to the perpetrator for healing after you've been abused.

By coming out to ourselves, we free up the energy we spent keeping a part of ourselves hidden.

Prejudice usually can't survive close contact with the people who are supposed to be so despicable, which is why the propagandists for hate always preach separation.

If you live in a society that wishes you didn't exist, anything you do to make yourself happy disrupts its attempts to wipe you out, or at the very least, make you invisible.

When you're hurting another person, past a certain point you're cracking them open and whatever's inside them gets all over you. So you should kinda check out whether you want that to happen.

Responsibility without power is a really bad deal.

SM is an art. Doing it well requires more than a bag full of expensive whips and exotic electrical toys, a closet full of fetish clothes, or a basement filled with bondage furniture.

A lot of people who are depressed, I think, are suffering from blocked creativity.

If your relationship with someone is based on your desire for them to change into something radically different, there's no real closeness there, no real communication.

This is one of the reasons we need to transition: people can't validate an identity they can't see.

The scars are a way of reminding me that the past is real. They are honorable.

You are not your mind. You don’t have to believe the lies it tells you about yourself.

I almost never respect men. They're like flowers -- all show, a lot of color and lust. You pick them and throw them on the ground.

Because they knew each other's thoughts, they even quarrelled without speaking.

If we could sell 100,000 units every album, that would rock. We'd have a big cult following, we'd have a built-in fanbase so we could pretty much play anywhere, people would show up and rock out

Donald Trump cannot, cannot be the man who leads the United States of America.

My opportunities were still there, nay, they multiplied tenfold; but the strength and youth to cope with them began to fail, and to need eking out with the shifty cunning of experience.

Friends, to me for years St. Louis represented a city of fear... humiliation... misery and terror... A city where in the eyes of the white man a Negro should know his place and had better stay in it.

I started out making $4 for my first fight, but imagine paying $25,000 for a painting...look at me!

It is essential for the oppressed to realize that when they accept the struggle for humanization they also accept, from that moment, their total responsibility for the struggle.

You can't discover light, by analyzing the dark.