Quotes About Ambivalence

I would have stayed a hundred times and I would have left one time only - still, I left.

You won't ever have everyone love you, just as you won't have everyone hate you. find the right people to love you and return the hatred of others with ambivalence or hatred of your own.

I have always been loved and hated for the same reason and by the same people.

But there is something about human beings that too often makes our love for the world look very much like hatred for it.

An option hides where we don't want it to hide. I will repeat that options benefit from variability, but also from situations in which errors carry small costs. So

they are now totally untrained to handle ambiguity.

I can't figure out if I like him. He's polite. It's the kind of politeness that makes you feel full, as if you've eaten too much jam

I realized that the last thing I wanted to do was go home. A weird feeling—like on the one hand I wanted to go back to that other world, but at the same time didn't care if my connections to it were cut forever. It wasn't a feeling of being free or anything. I just didn't want to go back. I wanted to float somewhere in between.

No one knows wether you're a monster or a hero. Is there a third choice?

I'm sure my parents must be proud. Or horrified. Or are bitterly arguing about whether they're proud or horrified, and have already hired lawyers to resolve the dispute. -Hayden Upchurch

Between them, the baby still cries. It's like a game of steal the bacon, where no one wants to take the bacon.

Would she do it if he asked? Definitely not. Probably not. Maybe not.

Munira Atrushi, like most people in the world, had a job that was perfect in that it was perfectly ordinary. And like most every- one in the world, she didn't hate her job, nor did she love it. Her feelings lingered somewhere near the center.

I was drawn to all the wrong things: I liked to drink, I was lazy, I didn't have a god, politics, ideas, ideals. I was settled into nothingness; a kind of non-being, and I accepted it. I didn't make for an interesting person. I didn't want to be interesting, it was too hard. What I really wanted was only a soft, hazy space to live in, and to be left alone.

there was something about that city, though it didn't let me feel guilty that I had no feeling for the things so many others needed. it let me alone.

as the shadows assume shapes I fight the slow retreat now my once-promise dwindling dwindling now lighting new cigarettes pouring more drinks it has been a beautiful fight still is.

when I was a boy I used to dream of becoming the village idiot. I used to lie in bed and imagine myself the happy idiot able to get food easily ...and easy sympathy, a planned confusion of not too much love or effort. some would claim that I have succeeded.

I remember your saying: make it or break it. neither happened and it won't.

But I didn't want to be anything anyhow. And I was certainly succeeding.

Don't you wish you were Charles Bukowski? I can paint too. Lift weights. And my little girl think that I am God. Then other times, it's not so good.

New Year's Eve is like any other eve to me: I drink.

I could make it. I could win drinking contests, I could gamble. Maybe I could pull a few holdups. I didn't ask much, just to be left alone.

Stanley was right. I never hit another home run. I struck out most of the time. But they always remembered that home run and while they still hated me, it was a better kind of hatred, like they weren't quite sure why. Football

I never hit another home run. I struck out most of the time. But they always remembered that home run and while they still hated me, it was a better kind of hatred, like they weren't quite sure why.