misfit

you can't fight with who you are

That was the thing about her. When you told her about an incident where you so badly screwed up, half expecting her to laugh at you in amusement, half anticipating a smirk of disgust, she would hardly express her pity or maybe she did express what she felt, for she would just nod her head, gesturing you to go on... As if it's normal... As if you're normal.

A __ormal person_ is what is left after society has squeezed out all unconventional opinions and aspirations out of a human being.

People like us are dead to society unless we__e pretentious, tell people what they want to hear, take off our clothes, or pretend to be like them.

It__ better to be a __isfit_ than a __ne-size-fits-all_!

No matter how "normal" people look, living "ordinary" lives, everyone has a story to tell. And may be, just like you, everyone else is a misfit too.

How lonely it is!To be drowning,in a placewhere everyone can swim.

Steffy risked a glance at her fellow neighbors and townspeople. She often looked for kindred spirits in the crowd. None were ever found. Just once, she wished to see someone trying to hide a smile, a snicker, or plain sighing at the absurdity. The rowdy outcasts among the community were not welcome in the church. They knew better than to show their faces.

She walks,on the streets,with a face that,doesn't belong.It smiles more than,many put together,whole day long.Her heart misfit,a little chipped.And she likes to,call it once broken,but now stitched.

The most interesting people are the unusual. No one writes about or discusses the average, the ordinary, or the common; they write about and discuss the weird, the mad and the different, so if you are one, even though the opinions of others are of no importance, you are, in their eyes, significant enough to notice and remember.

Eleanor," Daniel said. "Miss Fitt! Wake up!"I fluttered my eyelids open. "I'm not a misfit anymore," I rasped. "I thought I told you that.

I am not an outsider. I am an insider who discovered that everyone else had gone out.

There's always one sure way of finding out that you're a misfit. When you're eleven years old, and your friends are telling you that they just sneaked into the theater to watch 'Twilight' and that it was "sooooo emotional and sooooo terrifying and soooooo romantic!" - but you've been spending the summer watching 'Rosemary's Baby' and 'Don't Look Now' and knowing the lines to all the Alfred Hitchcock films by heart - that's the moment you realize that you're a misfit.

The condition of the black race, their pain, their wounds, would in his mind become merged with his own: the absent father and the hint of scandal, a mother who had gone away, the cruelty of other children, the realization that he was no fair-haired boy -- that he looked like a 'wop'. Racism was part of that past, his instincts told him, part of convention and respectability and status, the smirks and whispers and gossip that had kept him on the outside looking in,

Illusion"A man wants to be freeflying in the emptiness of the universeHe thinks he means somethingin the endlessness of natureA man wakes upbeing only a dust

A misfit is like the round peg that cannot fit into the square hole or the running river that just can__ stay still.

Nobody wants to know how you feel, yet, they want you to do what they feel.