Fake It Till You Make It Quotes

Fake it 'till you make it. ~ Gayle Forman

Act As If You Feel Relaxed About Feedback

People sometimes feel a spike of defensiveness when they receive negative feedback. You might feel annoyed at the feedback or feel upset. In these situations, try acting as if you feel relaxed. In other words, fake it till you make it. Acting as if you feel relaxed is one of the fastest ways to actually feel more calm. If you get an anxiety spike when you receive feedback or tend to feel defensive, try making your body language more open. Send nonverbal signals that you're open, even if inside you're not feeling it. Drop your shoulders, lift your head, make gentle eye contact, and relax your hands. When you do this, your thoughts and feelings will start to catch up with your nonverbal cues almost instantly. You won't feel completely relaxed, but it will help. ~ Alice Boyes

The simple, brief experience of imagining oneself as another transformed both self-perception and, through this transformation, behavior. The maxim "fake it till you make it" gains empirical support. ~ Cordelia Fine

Fake it till you make it actually worked. ~ Gayle Forman

When you start a rock n' roll band, you've gotta fake it till you make it. You begin by doin' what you love- and what you love is usually what some other people have already done. It just depends on how much of a fool you make of yourself along the way to finding your own sound, assuming you find it. ~ Steven Tyler

Fake it til you make it. Okay, here's the one to avoid. Attempt this bit of pop psychology at your peril. Originally an observation made by Aristotle, "Men acquire a particular quality by constantly acting a certain way," the modern version has become tainted by its suggested swagger, and if performed in that fashion can easily go wrong. The very notion of straying far from our real selves is at odds with the central premise of this book. Confidence isn't about pretending or putting on an act; it springs from the genuine accomplishment and work. Jenny Crocker told us, in fact, that not only does faking it not work as a confidence booster, but it almost certainly make us feel less secure, because knowingly masquerading as something we're not makes us anxious. Moreover, as good as we might be at faking it, we'll certainly project those subtle false signals described by Cameron Anderson, and that won't help us much, either.
The appeal of faking it, if only for a while, is that it offers a crutch --a way to begin. Here's a better way to reframe the premise for a quick confidence jump start: Don't pretend to be anything or anyone -- simply take action. Do one small brave thing, and then enxt one will be easier, and soon confidence will flow. We know -- fake it till you make it sounds catchier -- but this actually works. ~ Katty Kay

I wish there were some kind of magic words that could bridge the cap between the person I am and the one I wish I could be. Because the whole fake it till you make it thing? It's not working for me. ~ Julie Murphy

Don't fake it till you make it. Fake it till you become it. ~ Amy Cuddy

Not every person is going to like you in every place you work. That's okay! Accept this, assume an attitude of "fake it till you make it," and use the experience to keep building your skills and moving your career forward. ~ Debra Shigley

People love to say, "You gotta fake it till you make it." But this implies that the fake you is someone better than who you inherently are, and this is simply not the truth. Let me say this loud and clear: the person you imagine yourself to be in the very best and most powerful moments of your life, is the authentic you. And in truth, I imagine you're probably much more amazing even than that. ~ Richie Norton

A roadblock for some is the catch-22 of feeling too amateur to begin. There's a purpose for the phrase 'fake it till you make it'. If you don't have all the pieces in place, act like you do. When in doubt, forge ahead with gay abandon! As I spoke to other successful artists about their early days, a recurring theme was the importance of making work. John Safran described it as 'jamming', while Ghost Patrol likened it to 'playing'. ~ Justin Heazlewood

I thought of what Mom sometimes said to me when I was feeling insecure: Fake it till you make it. ~ Gayle Forman

If somebody offers you an amazing opportunity but you are not sure you can do it, say yes – then learn how to do it later! ~ Richard Branson

I tell people, and it's the truth, I could sit in my garage for a week and it won't make me a car. And you can sit in church till your bottom is flat and that won't make you a servant of Christ. ~ Joyce Meyer

I thought the same thing, exactly. We always say that. you said it--you should have refused to go to Rolny. I said it as soon as I got to Elbow; I'm a free man. I didn't have to come here!...We always think it, and say it, but we don't do it. We keep our initiative tucked away safe in our mind, like a room where we can come and say, 'I don't have to do anything, I make my own choices, I'm free.' And then we leave the little room in our mind, and go where PDC posts us, and stay till we're reposted. ~ Ursula K. Le Guin

Maybe I can tell you," said Miss Maudie. "If your father's anything, he's civilized in his heart. Marksmanship's a gift of God, a talent - oh, you have to practice to make it perfect, but shootin's different from playing the piano or the like. I think maybe he put his gun down when he realized that God had given him an unfair advantage over most living things. I guess he decided he wouldn't shoot till he had to, and he had to today." "Looks like he'd be proud of it," I said. "People in their right minds never take pride in their talents," said Miss Maudie. We ~ Harper Lee

Everything is vague to a degree you do not realize till you have tried to make it precise. ~ Bertrand Russell

By the way, a Bulgarian I met lately in Moscow," Ivan went on, seeming not to hear his brother's words, "told me about the crimes committed by Turks and Circassians in all parts of Bulgaria through fear of a general rising of the Slavs. They burn villages, murder, outrage women and children, they nail their prisoners by the ears to the fences, leave them so till morning, and in the morning they hang them- all sorts of things you can't imagine. People talk sometimes of bestial cruelty, but that's a great injustice and insult to the beasts; a beast can never be so cruel as a man, so artistically cruel. The tiger only tears and gnaws, that's all he can do. He would never think of nailing people by the ears, even if he were able to do it.
These Turks took a pleasure in torturing children, -too; cutting the unborn child from the mothers womb, and tossing babies up in the air and catching them on the points of their bayonets before their mothers' eyes. Doing it before the mothers' eyes was what gave zest to the amusement. Here is another scene that I thought very interesting. Imagine a trembling mother with her baby in her arms, a circle of invading Turks around her. They've planned a diversion: they pet the baby, laugh to make it laugh. They succeed, the baby laughs. At that moment a Turk points a pistol four inches from the baby's face. The baby laughs with glee, holds out its little hands to the pistol, and he pulls the trigger in the baby's face and blows out its brains. A ~ Fyodor Dostoyevsky

I will not be sworn but love may transform me to an oyster; but I'll take my oath on it, till he have made an oyster of me he shall never make me such a fool. ~ William Shakespeare

LEONATO
Well, niece, I hope to see you one day fitted with a husband.
BEATRICE
Not till God make men of some other metal than earth. Would it not grieve a woman to be overmastered with a pierce of valiant dust? to make an account of her life to a clod of wayward marl? No, uncle, I'll none: Adam's sons are my brethren; and, truly, I hold it a sin to match in my kindred. ~ William Shakespeare

I know a few things about ghosts. The only way to stop them getting inside you is to spend every second of the day thinking about something else. Fighting like that makes you tired, and it doesn't matter how hard you fight anyway. They chip till they make a crack, and before you know it there's a ghost squatter in your living room. It's hard to get them out. Hard because they settle in. Hard because you like the company. ~ Cath Crowley

Growing up spoiled a lot of things. It spoiled the nice game they had when there was nothing to eat in the house. When money gave out and food ran low, Katie and the children pretended they were explorers discovering the North Pole and had been trapped by a blizzard in a cave with just a little food. They had to make it last till help came. Mama divided up what food there was in the cupboard and called it rations and when the children were still hungry after a meal, she'd say, 'Courage, my men, help will come soon.' When some money came in and Mama bought a lot of groceries, she bought a little cake as celebration, and she'd stick a penny flag in it and say, 'We made it, men. We got to the North Pole.'
One day after one of the 'rescues' Francie asked Mama:
'When explorers get hungry and suffer like that, it's for a reason . Something big comes out of it. They discover the North Pole. But what big things comes out of us being hungry like that?'
Katie looked tired all of a sudden. She said something Francie didn't understand at the time. She said, 'You found the catch in it. ~ Betty Smith

I know that not every family is a clean-cut nuclear Mom and Dad at home situation - but I think every father needs to do whatever he can to be present in the lives of his kids. If you are in a situation where you have not been - fight for it. Don't give up till you get it. Don't be a jerk about it - don't "fight" mom - but "fight" whatever things tell you to just give up. Send cards, make phone calls, pay your support, and do whatever you can to be present in the lives of your children. ~ Josh Hatcher

The reaches opened before us and closed behind, as if the forest had stepped leisurely across the water to bar the way for our return. We penetrated deeper and deeper into the heart of darkness. It was very quiet there. At night sometimes the roll of drums behind the curtain of trees would run up the river and remain sustained faintly, as if hovering in the air high over our heads, till the first break of day. Whether it meant war, peace, or prayer we could not tell. The dawns were heralded by the descent of a chill stillness; the wood-cutters slept, their fires burned low; the snapping of a twig would make you start. We were wanderers on a prehistoric earth, on an earth that wore the aspect of an unknown planet. We could have fancied ourselves the first of men taking possession of an accursed inheritance, to be subdued at the cost of profound anguish and of excessive toil. ~ Joseph Conrad

Make choices and decisions and step on it so hard till it sticks on your shoes whare ever you go,if you cant bring it along the way make sure there is a strong effect on the choices and decisions you made. ~ Narjit Singh

Why do we need so many people on Earth? I ask you. What are they good for? They live out ludicrous lives of pointless desperation. Ninety-nine percent of the human population is so much wasted resources. Stubborn vermin, we humans are.

Granted, in the past, the unwashed masses were necessary. We needed them to till our fields and fight our wars. We needed them to labor in our factories making consumer crap that we flipped back at them at a handsome profit.

Alas, those days are gone. We live in a boutique economy now. Energy is abundant and cheap. Mentars and robotic labor make and manage everything. So who needs people? People are so much dead white. They eat up our profits. They produce nothing but pollution and social unrest. They drive us crazy with their pissing and moaning. I think we can all agree that Corporation Earth is in need of a serious downsizing.
...
The boutique economy has no need of the masses, so let's get rid of them. But how, you ask? Not with wars, surely, or disease, famine, or mass murder. Despots have tried all these methods through the millennia, and they're never a permanent solution.

No, all we need to do is buy up the ground from under their feet -- and evict them. We're buying up the planet, Bishop, fair and square. We're turning it into the most exclusive gated community in history. Now, the question is, in two hundred years, will you be a member of the landowners club, or will you be living in some tin ~ David Marusek

A problem isn't a real problem till you decide to make it a problem ... so what's the problem again? ~ Runa Magnus

It's okay, girl, we'll make it till the sun goes down forever. And until then what you got to lose but the losing? We're fallen angels who didn't believe that nothing means nothing. ~ Jack Kerouac

I enclose two limp singles, i will make do with this thing till you find me a real Pepys. THEN i will rip up this ersatz book, page be page, AND WRAP THINGS IN IT. ~ Helene Hanff

You take a straight tip from the stable, Cokey, if you must hate, hate the government or the people or the sea or men, but don't hate an individual person. Who's done you a real injury. Next thing you know he'll be getting into your beer like prussic acid; and blotting out your eyes like a cataract and screaming in your ears like a brain tumour and boiling round your heart like melted lead and ramping though your guts like a cancer. And a nice fool you'd look if he knew. It would make him laugh till his teeth dropped out; from old age. ~ Joyce Cary

You are very kind in planning presents for me to make, and my mother has shown me exactly the same attention; but as I do not choose to have generosity dictated to me, I shall not resolve on giving my cabinet to Anna till the first thought of it has been my own. ~ Jane Austen

Channel Firing
BY THOMAS HARDY
That night your great guns, unawares,
Shook all our coffins as we lay,
And broke the chancel window-squares,
We thought it was the Judgment-day

And sat upright. While drearisome
Arose the howl of wakened hounds:
The mouse let fall the altar-crumb,
The worms drew back into the mounds,

The glebe cow drooled. Till God called, "No;
It's gunnery practice out at sea
Just as before you went below;
The world is as it used to be:

"All nations striving strong to make
Red war yet redder. Mad as hatters
They do no more for Christés sake
Than you who are helpless in such matters.

"That this is not the judgment-hour
For some of them's a blessed thing,
For if it were they'd have to scour
Hell's floor for so much threatening....

"Ha, ha. It will be warmer when
I blow the trumpet (if indeed
I ever do; for you are men,
And rest eternal sorely need)."

So down we lay again. "I wonder,
Will the world ever saner be,"
Said one, "than when He sent us under
In our indifferent century!"

And many a skeleton shook his head.
"Instead of preaching forty year,"
My neighbour Parson Thirdly said,
"I wish I had stuck to pipes and beer."

Again the guns disturbed the hour,
Roaring their readiness to avenge,
As far inland as Stourton Tower,
And Camelot, ~ Thomas Hardy

I felt that I admired you, but I told myself it was only friendship; and till I began to make comparisons between yourself and Lucy, I did not know how far I was got. ~ Jane Austen

Ryder's heart beats madly against my ear as we cling to each other, holding on for dear life. Adrenaline races through my veins, making my breath come in short gasps. I can feel Ryder's fingers in my hair, his nails digging into my scalp as he presses me tightly against his body, his muscles bunched and rigid.
I know I'm supposed to hate him, but all I can think right now is how glad I am he's here--glad that I'm not alone. I've never been so scared in all my life, but I know it would be worse without him.
It's over in a matter of seconds. The freight-train roar quiets, the rain returning with a vengeance. I don't need Jim Cantore to tell me it's a rain-wrapped tornado. I've watched enough Storm Chasers to recognize it, even from my little hidey-hole under the stairs. If we had been outside, we probably wouldn't have seen it coming, not till it was too late.
Ryder releases his grip on my head, and I pull away slightly, peering up at him. His deep brown eyes are slightly wild-looking, but otherwise he looks okay. His face isn't a shade of green, at least. I lean back against him, my head resting on his shoulder now. We're still holding hands, our fingers intertwined. Somehow, it doesn't seem at all weird. It just feels…safe.
Neither of us says a word, not till the sirens are silenced a few minutes later.
"I guess we should give it a few minutes," I say, my voice slightly hoarse. "You know, just to make sure that's it. No point in going out just to clim ~ Kristi Cook

But wait till it happens to you! The ack-ack guns make so much noise you can't hear your own voice. ~ Anne Frank

At the Theatre: To the Lady Behind Me

Dear Madam, you have seen this play;
I never saw it till today.
You know the details of the plot,
But, let me tell you, I do not.
The author seeks to keep from me
The murderer's identity,
And you are not a friend of his
If you keep shouting who it is.
The actors in their funny way
Have several funny things to say,
But they do not amuse me more
If you have said them just before;
The merit of the drama lies,
I understand, in some surprise;
But the surprise must now be small
Since you have just foretold it all.
The lady you have brought with you
Is, I infer, a half-wit too,
But I can understand the piece
Without assistance from your niece.
In short, foul woman, it would suit
Me just as well if you were mute;
In fact, to make my meaning plain,
I trust you will not speak again.
And - may I add one human touch? -
Don't breathe upon my neck so much. ~ A.P. Herbert

It doesn't matter," Min said. "That's what I'm trying to tell you, it doesn't matter what you do or say. I'm going to love you till the end of time."
Cal looked at her, stunned.
"I know," Min said. "It's really un-PC. I just thought you should know that you can't screw this up."
"I can't?" Cal said, wanting to believe her.
"No," Min said. "Which doesn't mean I'm not going to tell if you make me mad again. I will shout and slam doors. I just won't be on the other side of the door when I slam it. You've got me for life."
He lost his breath and put his forehead against her shoulder. "God, I love you. ~ Jennifer Crusie

There is a restlessness unspoken unfelt before, restlessness to throw myself into something significant, I can only imagine and I wish I could feel the claim, the passion of being owned, desire of being wanted, urge to b lost controllably, it is being vulnerable and there is no denying to it, but go ahead with it anyway; till the time it makes you feel alive, taste passion, taste emotion and make love. ~ Pushpa Rana

The Clock on the Morning Lenape Building

Must Clocks be circles?
Time is not a circle.
Suppose the Mother of All Minutes started
right here, on the sidewalk
in front of the Morning Lenape Building, and the parade
of minutes that followed--each of them, say, one inch long--
headed out that way, down Bridge Street.
Where would Now be? This minute?
Out past the moon?
Jupiter?
The nearest star?

Who came up with minutes, anyway?
Who needs them?
Name one good thing a minute's ever done.
They shorten fun and measure misery.
Get rid of them, I say.
Down with minutes!
And while you're at it--take hours
with you too. Don't get me started
on them.

Clocks--that's the problem.
Every clock is a nest of minutes and hours.
Clocks strap us into their shape.
Instead of heading for the nearest star, all we do
is corkscrew.
Clocks lock us into minutes, make Ferris wheel
riders of us all, lug us round and round
from number to number,
dice the time of our lives into tiny bits
until the bits are all we know
and the only question we care to ask is
"What time is it?"

As if minutes could tell.
As if Arnold could look up at this clock on
the Lenape Building and read:
15 Minutes till Found.
As if Charlie's time is not forever stuck
on Half Past Grace.
As if a swarm of stinging minutes wa ~ Jerry Spinelli

Among the many thousands of things that I have never been able to understand, one in particular stands out. That is the question of who was the first person who stood by a pile of sand and said, "You know, I bet if we took some of this and mixed it with a little potash and heated it, we could make a material that would be solid and yet transparent. We could call it glass." Call me obtuse, but you could stand me on a beach till the end of time and never would it occur to me to try to make it into windows. ~ Bill Bryson

You can easily manage what you create. Create time for what you dream of accomplishing and you will manage it till it's done and done well! ~ Israelmore Ayivor

You know I understand how you feel.... the loneliness that sets in....how empty your heart aches wishing you had someone near....to hold... to kiss and love. That type of passion poets write about...that person your souls yearns yet can not find....that love that all time will lie down and be still for.... but at last it feels ever more like a cruel joke and fickle fate which has no plans of happiness....we drudge on with our existence trying to make sense of it....then slowly you feel the light dim....till it blows out. You've set yourself in complete darkness, with no direction, fully immersing yourself in confusion, doubt and suffer. Feeding your starving desires with delusions; completely disabling your inner mind from seeing the ugly truth beyond the shattered reality. You look at yourself through a contaminated mirror, seeing what you want to see from a certain angle, completely ignoring the faults and imperfections hidden under the surface. I petty the day that will wash your fickle images, scattering your true colors to yourself not more... As I see through what you choose to hide. ~ N2

Gallop apace, you fiery-footed steeds,
Towards Phoebus' lodging: such a wagoner
As Phaethon would whip you to the west,
And bring in cloudy night immediately.
Spread thy close curtain, love-performing night,
That runaway's eyes may wink and Romeo
Leap to these arms, untalk'd of and unseen.
Lovers can see to do their amorous rites
By their own beauties; or, if love be blind,
It best agrees with night. Come, civil night,
Thou sober-suited matron, all in black,
And learn me how to lose a winning match,
Play'd for a pair of stainless maidenhoods:
Hood my unmann'd blood, bating in my cheeks,
With thy black mantle; till strange love, grown bold,
Think true love acted simple modesty.
Come, night; come, Romeo; come, thou day in night;
For thou wilt lie upon the wings of night
Whiter than new snow on a raven's back.
Come, gentle night, come, loving, black-brow'd night,
Give me my Romeo; and, when he shall die,
Take him and cut him out in little stars,
And he will make the face of heaven so fine
That all the world will be in love with night
And pay no worship to the garish sun.
O, I have bought the mansion of a love,
But not possess'd it, and, though I am sold,
Not yet enjoy'd: so tedious is this day
As is the night before some festival
To an impatient child that hath new robes
And may not wear them. O, here comes my nurse,
And she b ~ William Shakespeare

St. Louis Blues (1929)

I hate to see de evenin' sun go down,
Hate to see de evenin' sun go down
'Cause ma baby, he done lef' dis town.
Feelin' tomorrow like I feel today,
Feel tomorrow like I feel today,
I'll pack my trunk, make ma git away.

Saint Louis woman wid her diamon' rings
Pulls dat man 'roun' by her apron strings.
'Twant for powder an' for store-bought hair,
De man ah love would not gone nowhere, nowhere.
Got de Saint Louis Blues jes as blue as ah can be.
That man got a heart lak a rock cast in the sea.

Or else he wouldn't have gone so far from me. Doggone it!
I loves day man lak a schoolboy loves his pie,
Lak a Kentucky Col'nel loves his mint an' rye.
I'll love ma baby till the day ah die.

Been to de gypsy to get ma fortune tole,
To de gypsy, done got ma fortune tole,
Cause I'm most wile 'bout ma Jelly Roll.
Gypsy done tole me, "Don't you wear no black."
Yes, she done told me, "Don't you wear no black.

Go to Saint Louis, you can win him back."
Help me to Cairo, make Saint Louis by maself,
Git to Cairo, find ma old friend Jeff,
Gwine to pin maself close to his side;
If ah flag his train, I sho' can ride.
Got de Saint Louis Blues jes as blue as ah can be.
That man got a heart lak a rock cast in the sea.

Or else he wouldn't have gone so far from me. Doggone it!
I loves day man lak a sch ~ Bessie Smith

A place for the newly weds and nearly deads
I'm counting the stones I hope you know I love you.
Got a lot of friends 6 feet under us.
Counting down the days till we join the party.
Thoughts of your nightmare projected through mine...
Breathing in these lies is no surprise
These evil things are all we know
Lets take these lives where we want to go.
The future is our prize, when the stars align.
Ghouls and ghosts will haunt my soul but they will never take me.
Before I go, I want to show that we can make a difference.
We've got some dumb perceptions.

But I've got the death connection...

All the hate that you have...
Just throw it away
Life is meant for more,
But we're too distracted..
Too caught up in the anger and judgment..
Caught up in the web of lies
I've heard these things keep our blood boiling,
Keeps us alive, and moving forward...
If that's the case I was born a dead man.
And I'm forever a ghost.
Hatred is something that we're brought up to see.
Now everybody's looking at me
I hope they know...
They won't get their satisfaction. ~ Ghost Town

that he had to be respectful to his parents, and even if he wasn't a Christian, he couldn't make fun of people who went to church. He was also supposed to go to church, even if his parents didn't go - which lots of parents don't, and should. As you maybe know, if you've read some of the other stories about the Sugar Creek Gang, about half of us were not Christians at first. Little Jim had nearly all the religion there was in the whole gang, but most of us became Christians. Dragonfly was the last one of us to be saved - except for little red-haired Tom Till, whose father wouldn't believe in God and whose mother had never had a chance in life to be happy, which is maybe one reason Little Tom Till's big brother, Bob, had turned out to be such a bad boy. It is not easy for a boy to become a Christian unless his father is one too. Most boys do what their dads ~ Paul Hutchens

This is the story of a boy named Pete Coutinho, who had a spell put on him. Some people might have called it a curse. I don't know. It depends on a lot of things, on whether you've got gipsy blood, like old Beatriz Sousa, who learned a lot about magic from the wild gitana tribe in the mountains beyond Lisbon, and whether you're satisfied with a fisherman's life in Cabrillo.

Not that a fisherman's life is a bad one, far from it. By day you go out in the boats that rock smoothly across the blue Gulf waters, and at night you can listen to music and drink wine at the Shore Haven or the Castle or any of the other taverns on Front Street. What more do you want? What more is there?

And what does any sensible man, or any sensible boy, want with that sorcerous sort of glamor that can make everything incredibly bright and shining, deepening colors till they hurt, while wild music swings down from stars that have turned strange and alive? Pete shouldn't have wanted that, I suppose, but he did, and probably that's why there happened to him - what did happen. And the trouble began long before the actual magic started working.

("Before I Wake...") ~ Henry Kuttner

For people who make up stories for a living, that is the ultimate success: knowing that, when the book closes, when the series ends, the adventure is not over. It goes on without the creator, in the minds of the people who love it. You can't stop the signal. Once it's broadcast, it continues on forever, pulsing past star clusters, lighting up new worlds, collecting new fans, till the end of time itself. ~ Sharon Shinn

If it were your Harry, mother, or your Willie, that were going to be torn from you by a brutal trader, tomorrow morning, - if you had seen the man, and heard that the papers were signed and delivered, and you had only from twelve o'clock till morning to make good your escape, - how fast could you walk? ~ Harriet Beecher Stowe

The Constructed Space"

Meanwhile surely there must be something to say,
Maybe not suitable but at least happy
In a sense between us two whoever
We are. Anyhow here we are and never
Before have we two faced each other who face
Each other now across this abstract scene
Stretching between us. This is a public place
Achieved against subjective odds and then
Mainly an obstacle to what I mean.

It is like that, remember. It is like that
Very often at the beginning till we are met
By some intention risen up out of nothing.
And even then we know what we are saying
Only when it is said and fixed and dead.
Or maybe, surely, of course we never know
What we have said, what lonely meanings are read
Into the space we make. And yet I say
This silence here for in it I might hear you.

I say this silence or, better, construct this space
So that somehow something may move across
The caught habits of language to you and me.
From where we are it is not us we see
And times are hastening yet, disguise is mortal.
The times continually disclose our home.
Here in the present tense disguise is mortal.
The trying times are hastening. Yet here I am
More truly now this abstract act become. ~ W.S. Graham

Never shut off pain till it eats you up completely. Ensure you find someone you can confide in and trust, share your burdens, cry if you need to by letting it all out. No one is conditioned for pain. We all need to address it and let it go, knowing we cannot change the past but we can make a brighter future out of the lessons learned. ~ Kemi Sogunle