I don’t trust compliments. I’ve been getting them for years. Sometimes I deserve them, sometimes I didn’t. But generally when people give you compliments there’s one of two things wrong with them. Either they’re false, or what’s worse is they’re sincere. They really mean the compliment. And then they’re offering you their loyalty. And I’m kind of a stingy… Well, I don’t necessarily want to give all that loyalty back. So either way, let’s skip the compliments.

She explained that many people, but especially women, feel fraudulent when they are praised for their accomplishments.

I’ve found out since that such people don’t know what they’re doing, and get insulted when you make some suggestion or criticism.

At last, someone was articulating exactly how I felt. Every time I was called on in class, I was sure that I was about to embarrass myself. Every time I took a test, I was sure that it had gone badly. And every time I didn't embarrass myself — or even excelled — I believed that I had fooled everyone yet again. One day soon, the jig would be up.

Those who complimented me were those who understood me the least.

Incompetence annoys me. Overconfidence terrifies me.

It has always been a mystery to me how men can feel themselves honored by the humiliation of their fellow beings.

I felt like everyones second choice, which is why a compliment could catch me off guard. Page 106

I'm so misunderstood that people misunderstand me even when I tell them I'm misunderstood.

We are all too often told by someone that we are too old, too young, too different, too much the same, and those comments can be devastating.

I think I have this thing where everybody has to think I'm the greatest.And if they aren't completely knocked out and dazzled and slightly intimidated by me, I don't feel good about myself.

Whenever people agree with me I always feel I must be wrong.

Sometimes I say things I shouldn't. I guess I'm too outspoken.

I did not say anything. I was always embarrassed by the words sacred, glorious, and sacrifice and the expression in vain. We had heard them, sometimes standing in the rain almost out of earshot, so that only the shouted words came through, and had read them on proclamations that were slapped up by billposters over other proclamations, now for a long time, and I had seen nothing sacred, and the things that were glorious had no glory and the sacrifices were like the stock yards at Chicago if nothing was done with the meat except to bury it.