Lost Identity Quotes

“I’d say I needed to find myself, if that didn’t sound like I was heading into the Himalayas, taking only a backpack stuffed with angst and clean underwear.”
― Kelley Armstrong, Omens

“Stuck in a blue, melancholic haze. I've known you for six years, intimately for four, and yet I still don’t know who I’m in love with. There’s nothing harder than saying goodbye to someone who broke your heart but whom you still undeniably love.”
― Rolf van der Wind

“Suffice to say that theirs had been an unusual love, with such a degree of commingling of identities that when Chris died, erica felt she had lost herself; even now she did not know if she could be found p.104”
― Mohsin Hamid, The Reluctant Fundamentalist

“From The Motel That Eats Time

“You don’t check into this motel to rest—you check in to remember what you were before the world forgot your name.”
― Thomas Miller

“You don’t check into this motel to rest—you check in to remember what you were before the world forgot your name.”
— From The Motel That Eats Time by Thomas Miller”
― Thomas Miller, South of the Border The Motel That Eats Time

“The Night When Fear Strays by Stewart Stafford

Each Hallowtide, all monstrous shapes do quail,
No balm for wounded wretches feeling frail,
Spectators as charlatan mortals filch frights,
Appropriated skins on haunted nights.

With bonfire’s glow ablaze in dauntless eyes,
Children’s fun quelled by strangest sighs,
A hulking shape, once fierce, wails tainted,
Its fearful gaze in phantom mists attainted.

Small, tender hands caressed its sodden fur,
A trembling growl betrayed its lonesome blur,
“Peace, gentle shade, what sorrow stirs unfed?”
“November’s dawn shall call me home,” it said.

Their kindly-shared oat cakes eased its pangs,
A webbed claw from veiled night to munching fangs,
It feasted with a hunger born of striven years alone,
Stroked the child’s cheek for the kindness shown.

When parents called, it whispered, soft and torn,
“At midnight’s knell, this thicket heralds morn—
Go, kindred babes, I’ll linger in this glade.
Each Halloween, I’ll mourn my fear remade.”

© 2025, Stewart Stafford. All rights reserved.”
― Stewart Stafford