Quotes About Ambiguity

that last word of human philosophy, "Perhaps!

As the past has ceased to throw its light upon the future, the mind of man wanders in obscurity.

She didn't like being twelve. It felt like someplace between who she'd been and who she was about to be. It felt like no place at all.

I wasn't quite as certain that I knew her soul. When it came right down to it, I wasn't sure she knew me either.

One morning when the air was misleading and mild with hope....

How can we understand life? It's impossible.

Maybe," she said to Pauline, not looking at her, just turning her head a bit to speak to her from across the aisle and over her shoulder. Not whispering either. "Maybe it was just the wind.

Mr. Persichetti knew that six weeks before its time and with a good thirty-minute ride to the hospital once the ambulance came (would it ever come?), the baby would most likely not survive, would

Now I no longer believe that people's secrets are defined and communicable, or their feelings full-blown and easy to recognize. I don't believe so.

I am a woman of violent contradiction.

Eu disse que a única coisa que me incomodava, um pouco, era o fato de haver uma pressuposição de que nada mais ia acontecer na nossa vida. Nada importante para nós, nada que precisasse ainda ser resolvido.

What made you wanted was nothing you did, it was something that you had, and how could you ever tell whether you had it?

Every day a question mark.

Poison and medicine are often the same thing, given in different proportions

but, he also said it because part of him wanted more of her, this cold woman who was not exactly cold, this rock who was not stone.

this cold woman who was not exactly cold, this rock who was not stone.

Finally, I thought, I had reached the future that was no future.

Nothing is ever certain

Language gets very confusing as it approaches this place where outside and inside touch.

Am I a Stalinist? A Capitalist? A Bourgeois Stinker? A rotten Red? No I'm a fairy with purple wings and white halo translucent as an onion ring in the transsexual fluorescent light of Kiev Restaurant after a hard day's work

None of us understand what we're doing, but we do beautiful things anyway.

Far enough away from the White House to live above land, she thought. That was a good one: menacing yet vague.

Was it too late? Could he still gather strength, just throw himself at something, if only to feel that velocity again? What was there to lose, when you gave up on figuring it out…or worse, when you saw that there was no figuring it out?

I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look, or the words which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew it had begun.