A Quote by Taylor Swift

I think that it's okay to be mad at someone who hurt you. This isn't about, like, the pageantry of trying to seem like nothing affects you. — © Taylor Swift
I think that it's okay to be mad at someone who hurt you. This isn't about, like, the pageantry of trying to seem like nothing affects you.
If you think about the people trying to hurt you, rather than just trying to hurt them back, you can understand it has nothing to do with you.
Think about every time you've seen someone being objectified, abused, enslaved. We see it constantly on the TV, in magazines, on the Internet. We've become numb, so we do nothing. The accumulation of passivity might make reading about that exploitation uncomfortable. And sometimes when I'm writing, I think of it like this: "People seem to like garbage, so here is what garbage smells like..."
I wasn't trying to fit into a thing... it was not like I was like, 'Right, I'm the Han; I'm the Leia; I'm the Luke.' I was just like, 'Okay, I'm Rey, just trying to do me, just trying to do this scene, trying to do the right thing,' and I think that was a huge advantage because I think if not, it would've been a very different thing.
People make it seem like I'm trying to get hurt, you know what I'm saying? I'm not here, like: 'Oh, hit me in the head on this play!' Nah, it just happens.
You’ll be all right. You’re strong. I know you’ll be okay because I like you and you can’t like someone who doesn’t like themself. The people I fear for are the ones who I don’t like because they hate themselves so much they won’t let anyone else like them either. But I do like you. I’ll miss you. And I know you’ll be okay.
The biggest lesson I’ve learned is, “It’s okay.” It’s okay for me to be kind to myself. It’s okay to be wrong. It’s okay to get mad. It’s ok to be flawed. It’s okay to be happy. It’s okay to move on.
I run a fast pace on my sets, man. I like the energy of the scene to be the energy on the set. I think it affects the actors, and I think it affects the crew. There's that sensation like you're really shooting it for real, like in a documentary.
To each his own. You like what you like. If you want someone who's big-boned and you like that, ain't nothing wrong with having a little extra meat on there. If you like them thin-boned, then that's okay, too.
It's not that I can't collaborate. It's just that I don't know how to say no to people. If someone's like, 'Let's write a song together,' it's like, 'You'll write the song, and I'm gonna okay everything.' It's very hard to think that their ideas work with what I'm trying to do.
I don't really judge. To each his own. You like what you like. If you want someone who's big-boned and you like that, ain't nothing wrong with having a little extra meat on their. If you like them thin-boned, then that's okay too.
Magnus hoped if he ever went mad like that himself, so mad that he poisoned the very air round him and hurt everyone he came into contact with, that there would be someone ho loved him enough to stop him. To kill him, if it came to that.
My basic political philosophy is, I ain't mad at that. Which basically means I don't have to have a strong opinion about everything. I'm too tired most of the time. Why do I have to take a stand on everything? Sometimes I'm just not mad at it. Like, What do you think about gay marriage? I ain't mad at you, you're gay and you're married: I ain't mad at you, go do it.
If someone does something that makes me mad, well, chances are it'll probably make other people mad if I do it, too. I like to think, 'What's the meanest thing, the rudest thing I can say right now?' Or how can I completely discredit someone? That's just my mentality.
Yes, I am mad - like the Marquis de Sade was mad, like Giordano Bruno was mad, like Antonin Artaud was mad.
How could you get mad at someone who neither needed to attack nor was at all worried about being able to defend? It was like getting mad at Switzerland.
I had never been this mad at her before. It was one thing to be attacked by someone you hated, but this was something else. This was the kind of hurt that could only be inflicted by someone you loved, who you thought loved you. It was sort of like being stabbed from the inside out.
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