Tattoo Represent Quotes

Tattoos are a right of passage. They're a marker of bravery, of maturity, of cultural acceptance. The tattoo represents not only a willingness to accept pain - to endure it - but a need to actively embrace it. Because life is painful - beautiful but painful.......

One day I’ll get a tattoo for you.” Warmth explodes in my chest, in awe that he would mark himself for me. “You don’t have to.” “I will.” His fingers trace my cheek and chills of pleasure run down my spine. “It’s what I do. Each tattoo represents the only happy memories I’ve had. And you, Rachel, you’re the happiest.

To be antiracist is to think nothing is behaviorally wrong or right- inferior or superior- with any of the racial groups. Whenever the antiracist sees individuals behaving positively or negatively, the antiracist sees exactly that: individuals behaving positively or , not representatives of whole races. To be antiracist is to deracialize behavior, to remove the tattooed stereotype from every racialized body. Behavior is something humans do, not races do.

But I understand now what Tori said about her tattoo representing a fear she overcame-a reminder of where she was, as well as a reminder of who she is now. Maybe there is a way to honor my old life as I embrace my new one. "yes," I say. "Three of these flying birds." I touch my collarbone, marking the path of their flight-toward my heart. One for each member of the family I left behind.

If people are honest with themselves when they choose a tattoo, the art will represent them better than anything that will ever come out of their mouth. The things that are most important to me are represented in the art that covers my body. My God, my family, my friends, my job, my social and historical beliefs and the aggressive or even violent nature with which I will protect all of them.....basically in that order of importance. Is it scarey or repulsive to some people? Yes. Does it change who I am? No. If anything it works as an outward conscience that will forever remind me of who I am and what is important during times of trial or long after my mind starts to fade due to old age if I'm blessed with a long life.Remove

Getting ink felt right, like it would help her put her life in order, to move forwards. It was her body, despite the things that'd been done to it, and she wanted to claim it, to own it, to prove that to herself. She knew it wasn't magic, but the idea of writing her own identity felt like the closest she could get to reclaiming her life. Sometimes there's power in the act; sometimes there's strength in words. She wanted to find an image that represented those things she was feeling, to etch it on her skin as tangible proof of her decision to change.

Ironically, the tattoo represents the opposite for me today. It reminds me that it's important to let yourself be vulnerable, to lose control and make a mistake. It reminds me that, as Whitman would say, I contain multitudes and I always will. I'm a level-one introvert who headlined Madison Square Garden—and was the first woman comic to do so. I'm the ‘overnight success’ who's worked her ass off every single waking moment for more than a decade. I used to shoplift the kind of clothing that people now request I wear to give them free publicity. I'm the SLUT or SKANK who's only had one one-night stand. I'm a ‘plus-size’ 6 on a good day, and a medium-size 10 on an even better day. I've suffered the identical indignities of slinging rib eyes for a living and hustling laughs for cash. I'm a strong, grown-ass woman who's been physically, sexually, and emotionally abused by men and women I trusted and cared about. I've broken hearts and had mine broken, too. Beautiful, ugly, funny, boring, smart or not, my vulnerability is my ultimate strength. There's nothing anyone can say about me that's more permanent, damaging, or hideous than the statement I have forever tattooed upon myself. I'm proud of this ability to laugh at myself—even if everyone can see my tears, just like they can see my dumb, senseless, whack, lame lower back tattoo.

We have gone sick by following a path of untrammelled rationalism, male dominance, attention to the visible surface of things, practicality, bottom-line-ism. We have gone very, very sick. And the body politic, like any body, when it feels itself to be sick, it begins to produce antibodies, or strategies for overcoming the condition of dis-ease. And the 20th century is an enormous effort at self-healing. Phenomena as diverse as surrealism, body piercing, psychedelic drug use, sexual permissiveness, jazz, experimental dance, rave culture, tattooing, the list is endless. What do all these things have in common? They represent various styles of rejection of linear values. The society is trying to cure itself by an archaic revival, by a reversion to archaic values. So when I see people manifesting sexual ambiguity, or scarifying themselves, or showing a lot of flesh, or dancing to syncopated music, or getting loaded, or violating ordinary canons of sexual behaviour, I applaud all of this; because it's an impulse to return to what is felt by the body -- what is authentic, what is archaic -- and when you tease apart these archaic impulses, at the very centre of all these impulses is the desire to return to a world of magical empowerment of feeling. And at the centre of that impulse is the shaman: stoned, intoxicated on plants, speaking with the spirit helpers, dancing in the moonlight, and vivifying and invoking a world of conscious, living mystery. That's what the world is. The world is not an unsolved problem for scientists or sociologists. The world is a living mystery: our birth, our death, our being in the moment -- these are mysteries. They are doorways opening on to unimaginable vistas of self-exploration, empowerment and hope for the human enterprise. And our culture has killed that, taken it away from us, made us consumers of shoddy products and shoddier ideals. We have to get away from that; and the way to get away from it is by a return to the authentic experience of the body -- and that means sexually empowering ourselves, and it means getting loaded, exploring the mind as a tool for personal and social transformation. The hour is late; the clock is ticking; we will be judged very harshly if we fumble the ball. We are the inheritors of millions and millions of years of successfully lived lives and successful adaptations to changing conditions in the natural world. Now the challenge passes to us, the living, that the yet-to-be-born may have a place to put their feet and a sky to walk under; and that's what the psychedelic experience is about, is caring for, empowering, and building a future that honours the past, honours the planet and honours the power of the human imagination. There is nothing as powerful, as capable of transforming itself and the planet, as the human imagination. Let's not sell it straight. Let's not whore ourselves to nitwit ideologies. Let's not give our control over to the least among us. Rather, you know, claim your place in the sun and go forward into the light. The tools are there; the path is known; you simply have to turn your back on a culture that has gone sterile and dead, and get with the programme of a living world and a re-empowerment of the imagination. Thank you very, very much.

To me, the haircut represented beauty and strength, that I was a woman who would live her life without the boundaries imposed upon her by other people.

Enough. Enough with these wafish elves walking your impossible clothing down an ugly runway with ugly lighting and noisy music. Life doesn’t look like that runway. Let’s see some ass up there and not just during the specially themed plus size show. We girls over size 6, 8, 10, 12, 14, 16, we don’t want a special day! We want every day and we want you to get out of our fucking way because we are already here. You are living in the past, all you dated, strange magazines representing the weird fashion world that presents bizarre clothing that no one I have ever met wears.

Being transgender and in need of surgery is a bit like wearing a tattoo advertising something that you have no intention of selling, and constantly being asked to represent what you are not selling.

The [Gila River area is] so utterly desolate, desert, and Godforsaken, that Kit Carson says a wolf could not make his living upon it.” | U.S. Representative THOMAS HART BENTON addressing the house of representatives, June 26, 1854

System 1 generates an impression of similarity without intending to do so. The representativeness heuristic is involved when someone says “She will win the election; you can see she is a winner” or “He won’t go far as an academic; too many tattoos.

The bird sketch holds my attention. I never intended to get pierced or tattooed when I came here. I know that if I do, it will place another wedge between me and my family that I can never remove. And if my life here continues as it has been, it may soon be the least of the wedges between us. But I understand now what Tori said about her tattoo representing a fear she overcame - a reminder of where she was, as well as a reminder of where she is now. Maybe there is a way to honor my old life as I embrace my new one.

When you watch a TV show or a movie, what you see looks like what it physically represents. A man looks like a man, a man with a large bicep looks like a man with a large bicep, and a man with a large bicep bearing the tattoo "Mama" looks like a man with a large bicep bearing the tattoo "Mama." But when you read a book, what you see are black squiggles on pulped wood or, increasingly, dark pixels on a pale screen. To transform these icons into characters and events, you must imagine. And when you imagine, you create. It's in being read that a book becomes a book, and in each of a million different readings a book become one of a million different books, just as an egg becomes one of potentially a million different people when it's approached by a hard-swimming and frisky school of sperm.

What is the delivery system for resilience? In part, it's the loving, caring adult who pays attention. It's the community of unconditional love, representing the very "no matter whatness" of God. They say that an educated inmate will not reoffend. This is not because an education assures that this guy will get hired somewhere. It is because his view is larger and more educated, so that he can be rejected at ninety-three job interviews and still not give up. he's acquired resilience. Sometimes resilience arrives in the moment you discover your own unshakable goodness. Poet Galway Kinnell writes, "Sometimes it's necessary to reteach a thing its loveliness.

Elizabeth puts her hands on her hips. Elizabeth has shoulder-length brown hair that looks as if it has been cut with a straight razor and a mouth that could have done the cutting. Elizabeth is smart, ruthless, and emotionally damaged; that is, she is a sales representative. If Elizabeth’s brain was a person, it would have scars, tattoos, and be missing one eye. ‘Do you want to ask me a question, Roger? Do you want to ask if I took your donut?

The multiform meanings of the Chinese word for writing, wen, illustrate well this interpenetration of human and nonhuman scripts: The word wen signifies a conglomeration of marks, the simple symbol in writing. It applies to the veins in stones and wood, to constellations, represented by the strokes connecting the stars, to the tracks of birds and quadrapeds on the ground (Chinese tradition would have it that the observation of these tracks suggested the invention of writing), to tattoos and even, for example, to the designs that decorate the turtle’s shell (“The turtle is wise,” an ancient text says—gifted with magico-religious powers—“for it carries designs on its back”). The term wen has designated, by extension, literature….3 Our first writing, clearly, was our own tracks, our footprints, our

I trace the lines of the tattoo on his chest---two tigers facing off with symbols and words. "I thought you didn't like cats. When did you get this?" "Oh, I love cats. Just not my mother's," he says. "As for the tattoo, I think I told you that I practice mixed martial arts. I got this one when my family lived in Thailand, setting up one of the resorts, when I was eighteen and practicing Muay Thai. This design has traditional symbols of Sak Yant---twin tigers, five lines, nine peaks, and eight directions, all deeply rooted in ancient Buddhist and Hindu practices and representing forces like power, strength, fearlessness, protection, and wealth." "You definitely have all those attributes," I say, enraptured by the design and the softness of his skin. Everything about him is so sensual---from his lips to his toes and whatever he's hiding under the towel.

They started calling people my grandfather’s age “generation ink”. He represents the era when extensive tattoos tipped into the mainstream. Now the old men and women sit together in the lounge room of my grandfather’s nursing home, watching daytime television. They don’t watch sport. Tattoos from their wrist to shoulders and across their chest, snake beneath their woolen cardigans and cotton shirts. Withered souls eternally painted in often incomprehensible scrawling. Faded colours. But that’s not to say that they regret getting inked. Far from it. It’s a part of who they are. As real and as precious as the blank skin they were born with. Their tastes in music haven’t mellowed either. They slowly approach the sound-system, leaning on their walking frame, and skip to songs by Pantera and Sepultura. Or Metallica, Slayer and Iron Maiden. My grandfather enjoyed punk and post-rock bands like Millencolin, Thursday, Coheed and Cambria or At The Drive-In.

By midafternoon soft snow is falling, muffling four voices that rise from the cardinal points around the circle, north, south, east, and west,intoning names from registration lists obtained by Rainer from museum archives in Berlin--long lists that represent but tiny fractions of that fraction of new prisoners who survived, however briefly, the first selections on this platform and were tattooed with small blue numbers. The impeccable lists include city and country of origin, arrival date, and date of death, not infrequently on that same day or the next. Column after column, page after page, of the more common family names ascend softly from the circle of still figures to be borne away on gusts of wind-whirled snow. Schwartz, Herschel; Schwartz, Isaac A.; Schwartz, Isaac D.; Schwartz, Isidor--Who? Isidor? You too? The voices are all but inaudible as befits snuffed-out identities that exist only on lists, with no more reality than forgotten faces in old photo albums--Who's this bald guy in the back? Stray faces of no more significance than wind fragments of these names of long ago, of no more substance than this snowflake poised one moment on his pen before dissolving into voids beyond all Knowing. In Paradise 87-88

the New England Holocaust Memorial just across from the restaurant. Olivia stood in awe looking up at the six glass towers which Trevor told her represented the six million Jews killed during the Holocaust and the six major death camps. “Each tower is etched with seven-digit numbers in remembrance of the numbers tattooed on the arms of the concentration camp prisoners.” On such a bright day, the shadows of those etched numbers covered both of them. “It’s absolutely breathtaking,” Olivia murmured. He tucked her hand under his elbow as they finished walking along the path. “It’s a sobering memorial but yes, quite a beautiful tribute.

Kathy: Does it hurt a lot, getting a tattoo? Stephanie: Are you thinking about it? Kathy: Sort of. Stephanie: What would you get? Kathy: I don’t know, something symbolic. What does yours symbolize? Stephanie: Well, the image comes from a piece of Minoan pottery that was made on Crete during the Bronze Age. The Minoans had this beautiful way of representing sea life that I fell in love with in my college art history class, and I got the tattoo in my twenties when I first moved to New York, so probably what it symbolized most of all was a big fuck-you to my parents, who hated tattoos and were scandalized. Long pause. Kathy: Where did you go to college again? Stephanie: U. of Illinois Champaign. You? Kathy: Harvard. It’s kind of amazing we’re friends, isn’t it? Stephanie: I’d say we’re doubles partners. Kathy: Nice. Stephanie: You can take it. Kathy: You get the chairs, I’ll grab us a couple of iced teas.

Has nobody not told you, Brian, that you've got this kind of gleeful preoccupation with the future? I wouldn't even mind, but you don't even have a fuckin' future, I don't have a future. Nobody has a future. The party's over. Take a look around you man, it's all breaking up. Are you not familiar with the book of Revelations of St. John, the final book of the Bible prophesying the apocalypse?... He forced everyone to receive a mark on his right hand or on his forehead so that no one shall be able to buy or sell unless he has the mark, which is the name of the beast, or the number of his name, and the number of the beast is 6-6-6... What can such a specific prophecy mean? What is the mark? Well the mark, Brian, is the barcode, the ubiquitous barcode that you'll find on every bog roll and packet of johnnies and every poxy pork pie, and every fuckin' barcode is divided into two parts by three markers, and those three markers are always represented by the number 6. 6-6-6! Now what does it say? No one shall be able to buy or sell without that mark. And now what they're planning to do in order to eradicate all credit card fraud and in order to precipitate a totally cashless society, what they're planning to do, what they've already tested on the American troops, they're going to subcutaneously laser tattoo that mark onto your right hand, or onto your forehead. They're going to replace plastic with flesh. Fact! In the same book of Revelations when the seven seals are broken open on the day of judgment and the seven angels blow the trumpets, when the third angel blows her bugle, wormwood will fall from the sky, wormwood will poison a third part of all the waters and a third part of all the land and many many many people will die! Now do you know what the Russian translation for wormwood is?... Chernobyl! Fact. On August the 18th, 1999, the planets of our solar system are gonna line up into the shape of a cross... They're gonna line up in the signs of Aquarius, Leo, Taurus, and Scorpio, which just happen to correspond to the four beasts of the apocalypse, as mentioned in the book of Daniel, another fuckin' fact! Do you want me to go on? The end of the world is nigh, Brian, the game is up!

He strips down, and my eyes instantly fall to the tattoo now covering the left side of his ribs. It’s an anchor splashing into the ocean, wrapped tight in barbed wire, each spike representing a single scar on my stomach. There are forty-two. My man said he had to bleed as I did, as many times as I did.

A sunrise," the saint murmured, running two fingers across the tattoo. Victor shook his head even as he shivered. "It represents the fading sun or fleeting beauty." "That's a poetic observation, coming from such a savage creature.

Is that saran wrap on your arm?" Ryder asked Alec. Alec looked down to his arm and nodded. "I got the space on the back of my tricep filled in." "With what?" Kane asked. "The tribal love, live, and loyalty tat that Dominic has." Ryder groaned out loud. "Dammit, now we're going to have to get it." "Why?" Kane asked. "Because dipshit here and Dominic will make it seem like we have no love for them if we don’t get one too, since the tat represents us, and our bond. Am I right?" Alec nodded his head. "Dead right." Ryder grunted while Kane muttered, "Fuck." "What's the big deal? You’re both cover in tattoos." "Exactly," Ryder said. "I'm running out of space.

Maybe it’s my tattoos talking, but this is my favorite missional mandate. Because the perception of Christians as self-righteous segregationists is so prevailing, it is such a pleasure to represent a new expression of faith. For me this is not hard, this is not work, this is not a sacrifice, this is not uncomfortable. A missional approach to a disoriented world has made discipleship fun again. To put it into highly intelligent terms, I get to skip all the church-speak and level with people authentically. I can accept a lovely glass of red wine at a neighbor’s house and later get an earful about her marriage struggles. Brandon organizes neighborhood Texas Hold ’em nights to show those men another face of the pastorate; consequently, he’s the first person they call in crisis. The eight families in our community group throw Halloween bashes and Christmas extravaganzas and potluck dinners and pool parties in our little subdivision. It’s the smallest corner of the world, but it’s the one we’ve been sent to, and we consider ourselves missionaries here.

He has tattoos. All over. Each one symbolizing his time with you. Did you know that?" I shake my head and look everywhere, anywhere but at Micki. I don't want to think about Levi's tattoos, what they represent, or where they might be located. I'd rather think about the wattage of the overhead fluorescent lights or the speed of the processors powering the CPUs. "You do know you used to sleep together, though, right? That you lived together at AIDA? That fine specimen of a man was your personal boy toy. You had him wrapped around your finger and dipped in chocolate. He did anything you asked. And I mean anything." "Um," I say, squirming in my chair. " Too much info." I'm so not in the mood to hear about my past self's sex life. Plus, it feels disrespectful to Levi. Not to mention that it makes me feel really freaking weird. And really freaking nauseous. "Aw, did I burn your New Life virgin ears?" Micki pouts, a sarcastic puppy frown.

Three is a sacred number. Some say it represents the trinity or three layers of the soul.

could say it over and over how much I loved him. How profoundly he changed my life. I could cover all my skin with tattoos representing something about him I truly loved, but there still wouldn’t be enough room. I couldn’t possibly explain to Hopper just how much my entire universe revolved around him because there wasn’t an equation that existed big enough to compute the sum. “You

To be antiracist is to think nothing is behaviorally wrong or right—inferior or superior—with any of the racial groups. Whenever the antiracist sees individuals behaving positively or negatively, the antiracist sees exactly that: individuals behaving positively or negatively, not representatives of whole races. To be antiracist is to deracialize behavior, to remove the tattooed stereotype from every racialized body. Behavior is something humans do, not races do.