A Quote by Lisa Hanawalt
I have existential worries inside of me, but I don't always know how to express them all the time.
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You must be a deeply anxiety-ridden person, otherwise chain-smoking is not possible; chain-smoking is a by-product. You must be so concerned about a thousand and one disturbances inside, you must be carrying such a big load of worries on your heart, on your chest, that you don't even know how to forget them. You don't know how to drop them - smoking at least helps you to forget about them.
Many successful people have fear, along with doubts and worries. The difference is that those who know how to succeed also know how to take action despite these worries and fears. You too can learn how to master fear, by understanding that fear is in our own minds, and therefore under our own control.
I was very much a late bloomer. That's not to say that girls didn't express interest in me from time to time, but I just, I did not know how to respond to that.
I am someone who worries a lot. I'm always worrying 'what if?' Now I'm a mum - there will be worries for the rest of my life, but they're not about me anymore.
I was surrounded by talented people. I always remember Mrs. Carmel Snow, saying to me, "You know, Polly, if one person thinks they're a big star, then we're all stars. You just go out there and always do your best. And always have time to see any designer - no matter how big or how small, have time to see them. You don't have to just see the big shots. You never know what's coming around the corner and the talent that is going to be important. That is your job."
Pure, existential space was regularly winking at me, each time in a more impressive manner, and this sensation of total freedom attracted me so powerfully that I painted some monochrome surfaces just to 'see,' to 'see' with my own eyes what existential sensibility granted me: absolute freedom!
If you're feeling pain, express that to the Lord. If you're feeling worried, express those worries. One passage that gives me comfort is in Psalms, Chapter 11, verse 3, it reads, "When all that is good falls apart, what can good people do?" That's really the question of the day.
I was a teenager with a lot of strangeness in me that I didn't know how to express. I was trying hard on the outside to be very normal and fit in, but inside I was a big weirdo. Thank God that little weirdo persisted, otherwise I would be so sad.
There is clearly this gene inside me or this thing inside me that I've always had in my blood. I don't know, but since very little I've always wanted to be in racing cars, and that was without knowing who my dad was and what he was doing for a living.
When people don't express themselves, they die one piece at a time. You'd be shocked at how many adults are really dead inside—walking through their days with no idea who they are, just waiting for a heart attack or cancer or a Mack truck to come along and finish the job. It's the saddest thing I know.
When was the last time you wanted to say it all to the right person To have it all come out right, to surprise yourself at how together you could be. When was the last time you ever met someone who made you want to give it all to them I mean give yourself to them. Where you couldn't express yourself enough - like you wanted to cut off one of your arms to be understood. That's it - you would cut your head off to have someone understand you. You know how pointless that one is. You know how many times you've smashed yourself to bits on the rocks.
Normally I begin writing a song with just with aim to express something, and sometimes I don't know what I want to express until a sentence comes to my head that will sum up everything about how I'm feeling at the time.
One does not always know how to express the sorrow of the soul. One does not always know how to silence the joy of the heart.
I was being very bad because I didn't know how to express myself. Music gave me an outlet to express myself and channel that anger.
How long have you been sitting in the darkness? You forget. You know you're getting hard to be with and you're crying every time you turn around. Oh my crazy baby, try to hold on tight. Oh my crazy baby, don't put out the light. And your hands are shaking something awful as your worries crawl around inside your clothes.
You tell me which society is going to be the winner in this 21st Century: One that worries about how we feel or the one that worries about making sure that the next generation has the capacity to eat everybody's lunch.
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