Everyone is a prisoner of his own experiences. No one can eliminate prejudices — just recognize them.

It's our failure to become the perceived ideal that ultimately defines us and makes us unique

It is our failure to become our perceived ideal that ultimately defines us and makes us unique.

The problem is that we don't believe that we are much alike as we are. Whites and blacks, Catholic and Protestants, men and women. If we saw each other as more alike, we might be very eager to join in one human family in this world, and to care about that family the way we care about our own.

Our stereotyping societies force us to feel more alone. They stamp masks on us and isolate out real selves. We all live in two worlds: the old comfortable man-centred world of absolutes and the harsh real world of relatives. The latter, the relativity reality, terrifies us; and isolates and dwarfs us all.

We are not meant to be just like anyone else.

and still am, suspicious of the idea of oneness. I don’t buy into the homogeneity of the human experience. I don’t think we’re all one. We can be one, but I don’t think we have to see things the same way for that to be so. An anarchic thought: We’re one but we’re not the same. We get to carry each other, not that we’ve got to, just that we get to.

we are not here to tolerate our difference, we are here to accept them. We are not here to celebrate our sameness, we are here to salute our distinctions. We are not born into equal circumstances but to equal abilities, but we should have equal opportunities. As individuals we unite in our values.

We are all different. Don’t judge, understand instead.

Each of us has his or her own distinct personality. But overlaid on top of that are tendencies and assumptions and reflexes handed down to us by the history of the community we grew up in, and those differences are extraordinarily specific.

Everyone is different from each other, but that doesn’t mean everyone should be indifferent to each other.

For every door that’s been opened to me, I’ve tried to open my door to others. And here is what I have to say, finally: Let’s invite one another in. Maybe then we can begin to fear less, to make fewer wrong assumptions, to let go of the biases and stereotypes that unnecessarily divide us. Maybe we can better embrace the ways we are the same. It’s not about being perfect. It’s not about where you get yourself in the end. There’s power in allowing yourself to be known and heard, in owning your unique story, in using your authentic voice. And there’s grace in being willing to know and hear others. This, for me, is how we become.

Some would say you were in a closet. Some would say you didn’t even know you were in a house. The “truth” about a person’s sexual preference is often revealed through a long journey of tiny steps, and acceptance is one of the last ones. It’s an individual story for every person. There are unique personal prejudices in everyone, created by our families, our social circles, and mostly by ourselves. It’s tough to confront those things that you are afraid of in yourself.

Do you not realize, Hastings, that each and everyone of us is a complete mystery with layers. We each try to judge each other, but nine times out of ten, we are wrong.