I tore up and ate my own passport in an airport hotel once. I'm bloated with language I can’t afford to forget.
Interpretation
The quote reflects the idea of identity and the burdens of language in the context of belonging and displacement.
Warsan Shire's quote speaks to the complexities of identity and the emotional weight that language carries for individuals, particularly those who may feel disconnected from their homeland or culture. By tearing up her passport, Shire symbolizes a desire to break free from the constraints of national identity, while simultaneously acknowledging that the languages we speak shape our memories and experiences, making them inescapable parts of who we are.
In practice
In a speech about the importance of cultural heritage, one might say, 'Like Warsan Shire, we must embrace our languages and the memories they hold.'
I’m not sad, but the boys who are looking for sad girls always find me. I’m not a girl anymore and I’m not sad anymore. You want me to be a tragic backdrop so that you can appear to be illuminated, so that people can say ‘Wow, isn't he so terribly brave to love a girl who is so obviously sad?’ You think I’ll be the dark sky so you can be the star? I’ll swallow you whole.
We took such care of tomorrow, but died on the way there.
Document the moments you feel most in love with yourself - what you're wearing, who you're around, what you're doing. Recreate and repeat.
Every mouth you’ve ever kissed was just practice. All the bodies you’ve ever undressed and ploughed in to were preparing you for me. I don’t mind tasting them in the memory of your mouth. _x000D_ Was it a long journey? Did it take you long to find me? _x000D_ You’re here now, welcome home.
Make peace with your body, it's not manmade, there are no flaws, there are no mistakes.
You can't make homes out of human beings.
There is nothing new in the realization that the Constitution sometimes insulates the criminality of a few in order to protect the privacy of us all.
Today there were fear, hatred, and pain, but no dignity of emotion, no deep or complex sorrows.
Science only answers the question, How does it work? Or at most, What's there? Science asks what and how, philosophy asks why, myth and religion ask who. Who's in charge here? Who's the author? That's what we really long to know.
There is no such thing as inner peace. There is only nervousness or death. Any attempt to prove otherwise constitutes unacceptable behavior.
The totalitarian states can do great things, but there is one thing they cannot do: they cannot give the factory-worker a rifle and tell him to take it home and keep it in his bedroom. That rifle, hanging on the wall of the working-class flat or laborer's cottage, is the symbol of democracy. It is our job to see that it stays there.
Yes, there is no denying it, any longer, it is not you who are dead, but all the others. So you get up and go to your mother, who thinks she is alive. That's my impression. But now I shall have to get myself out of this ditch. How joyfully I would vanish here, sinking deeper and deeper under the rains.
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