Quotes About Ambivalence

I wondered why I couldn't go the whole way doing what I should any more. This made me sad and tired. Then I wondered why I couldn't go the whole way doing what I shouldn't

Living with her was like living with my own coffin: Yet I still depended on her, though I did it regretfully.

I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. [...] I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn't make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet

I shall move north. I shall move into a long blackness. I see myself as a shadow, neither man nor woman, Neither a woman, happy to be like a man, nor a man Blunt and flat enough to feel no lack. I feel a lack. I hold my fingers up, ten white pickets. See, the darkness is leaking from the cracks. I cannot contain it. I cannot contain my life.

Let us go then, you and I, When the evening is spread out against the sky

I'm pretty much a cat that way. Scratch my stomach, and I'll purr at you, but I'll want to gut you with my claws even more than if you'd ignored me.

I have been clinging to a corpse, thinking I should lose it. Now it seems I am condemned not to. How ungrateful.

His eyes held a subtle light that she could not mistake for anything other than true attraction. The kind that mere friends did not share. She hated it. She loved it. She hated that she loved it.

Sintió una especie de ternura rencorosa, algo tan contradictorio que debía ser la verdad misma.

No será, che, que para ciertos niveles todo lo que no es inmediatamente claro es culpablemente oscuro? ¿No habrá una secreta y a veces siniestra necesidad de uniformar la escala de valores para poder sacar la cabeza por encima de la ola?

Six months ago. Six, sax, sex.

Así andaban, Punch y Judy, atrayéndose y rechazándose como hace falta si no se quiere que el amor termine en cromo o en romanza sin palabras. Pero el amor, esa palabra...

Por qué no aceptar lo que estaba ocurriendo sin pretender explicarlo, sin sentar las nociones de orden y de desorden

You don't want to let go, but don't want to be hurt, either. It's not a great place to be but what can I tell you?

I always hated obvious dreams like that. I still do.

I am an artist, that doesn't want to be an artist

as i looked into his face, my arms encircled around his waist, smelling his wonderfully masculine scent, i wonder how i can deny that what we had was more then friendship?

Decisions. Where, what, why. Can't handle them. So I'm prolonging the indecision with higher education.

Traveling around the country where you grew up , lost some of your virginity and a few of your illusions, acquired some lasting neuroses, and then left in a hateful mood, is a slightly schizoid experience. You are at once an outsider to the present and an insider of the past. Or perhaps the other way round.

I always think it would be great to play clubs again, and then when I do I don't like it because I just feel sometimes it's a bit too intimate.

The Booker 2011 is of no more interest to me than the world heavyweight championship, which I'm not going to win either. It's irrelevant.

When I say I wasn't a 'meant to be' guy, I've almost been jaded in the sport, where I don't believe in anything.

I am not averse to politics, but that does not mean that I am going to join politics.

I can't say that dropping out of school at 16 to join the Marines was my best idea. On the other hand, maybe it was. Who knows?