Quotes About Chaos

These three elements of contained chaos—white space, unusual suspects, and planned serendipity—can help both large businesses and small start-ups to introduce more innovation, drive growth, and propel excellence.

Order and disorder', said the speaker, 'they each have their beauty.

It is in the turmoil of chaos that we discover what, if anything, we are.

It was an unbroken network of causality leading back to the first human who wasn't a chimp. And farther back, to the coalescing of the planets around the sun. If you wish to call that God, go ahead.

Mark my words, when a government pretends that it is the highest judge of its own actions, the result is not freedom as Jefferson says, but chaos and oppression. When he shuts religion out of government, when men of faith are not listened to, then all that remains is venality, posturing, and ambition.

when a government pretends that it is the highest judge of its own actions, the result is not freedom as Jefferson says, but chaos and oppression.

History is a chaotic system. The details can shift endlessly, but the overall shape remains constant. Make a small change in the past, and it changes enough details in the present that we would not have come together at exactly this place and time to watch exactly this scene. And yet the great movements of history would be largely unchanged.

Actual life was chaos, but there was something terribly logical in the imagination. It was the imagination that set remorse to dog the feet of sin. It was the imagination that made each crime bear its misshapen brood. In the common world of fact the wicked were not punished, nor the good rewarded. Success was given to the strong, failure thrust upon the weak. That was all.

A flying chocolate wrapper touched against a fire hydrant. Taxi doors slammed. Bits of trash sparred in the darkest reaches of the alleyways. Sneakers found their sweetspots. The leather of briefcases rubbed against trouserlegs. A few umbrella tips clinked against the pavement. Revolving doors pushed quarters of conversation out into the street.

Insecure, ill-dressed chaos theorist desires intelligent, insightful, incandescent trends researcher. Must be SC.

It's a mess, aint it Sheriff? If it aint it'll do till a mess gets here.

Ye carry war of a madman's making onto a foreign land. Ye'll wake more than the dogs.

If fate is the law, then is fate also subject to that law? At some point we cannot escape naming responsibility. It's in our nature. Sometimes I think we are all like that myopic coiner at his press, taking the blind slugs one by one from the tray, all of us bent so jealously at our work, determined that not even chaos be outside of our own making.

A few would quote him scripture to confound his ordering up of eons out of the ancient chaos and other apostate supposings. The judge smiled. Books lie, he said. God dont lie. No, said the judge. He does not. And these are his words. He held up a chunk of rock. He speaks in stones and trees, the bones of things.

There ain't no law in Mexico. It's just a pack of rogues.

To make the world. To make it again and again. To make it in the very maelstrom of its undoing.

Very little. And bad people cant be governed at all.

It's a mess, ain't it Sheriff If it ain't it'll do til a mess gets here

It's a mess, aint it Sheriff? If it aint it'll do till a mess gets here.

A dimly seething rabble had coagulated within.

In the smoking dawn the party riding ragged and bloody with their baled peltries looked less like victors than the harried afterguard of some ruined army retreating across the meridians of chaos and old night, the horses stumbling, the men tottering asleep in the saddles.

At some point we cannot escape naming responsibility. It's in our nature. Sometimes I think we are all like that myopic coiner at his press, taking the blind slugs one by one from the tray, all of us bent so jealously at our work, determined that not even chaos be outside of our own making.

there is no order in the world save that which death has put there.

Chigurh shot him in the face. Everything that Wells had ever known or thought or loved drained slowly down the wall behind him