Quotes About Ambiguity

It's hard to tell whether the ship or airplane - they're all the same, I'm convinced - is male or female; it may shift back and forth.

We do not know what is really good or bad fortune.

So foul and fair a day I have not seen.

I feel like I came in comedy's side door, and still feel very fraudulent in many ways.

There's something Vichy about the French.

I think I'm being friendly with someone and I'll sit in their lap. They think I'm flirting with them.

'Flash Forward' was one of the big heartbreaks of my career. It was just this very frustrating experience. If we'd been allowed to tell the story we wanted to tell, I don't know that it would've been more successful or not. There's no way to know.

It's scary to not know when your next job is coming, and that is a daily fear when you are trying to act full-time.

I used to think that everything was just being funny but now I don't know. I mean, how can you tell?

Though I believe you're a good lad. But you're the sort of fellow to set a whole division by the ears… A regular… what's 'is name? A regular Dreyfus!" "Did you think Dreyfus was guilty?" Tietjens asked. "Hang it," the General said, "he was worse than guilty—the sort of fellow you couldn't believe in and yet couldn't prove anything against. The curse of the world...

We were fitted neither for defeat nor for victory: we could be true to neither friend nor foe. Not even to ourselves!

My wife and I knew Captain and Mrs Ashburnham as well as it was possible to know anybody, and yet, in another sense, we knew nothing at all about them. This is, I believe, a state of things only possible with English people of whom, till today, when I sit down to puzzle out what I know of this sad affair, I knew nothing whatever.

What bothers me, I told you in the first weeks after we met, is that I never know when you think I'm interesting.

You find yourself in another world you weren't looking for where what you see is that you have always been the wolves at the door. Left ajar, gaping, your own door.

The game is worthwhile in so far as we don't know what will be the end.

I felt at one and the same time quite close, within reach of my hand, and yet an infinite distance away, an unknown world of goodness. Often Isa had said to me: 'You, who see nothing but evil.... You, who see evil everywhere....' It was true, and it was not true.

You never know, of course, when you write a book what its fate will be. Sink out of sight, soar to the sun–who knows. I love this quote from Frances Mayes. It pretty much sums up the Great Unknown of book writing.

The words 'forse che si,' 'forse che no', 'perhaps yes,' 'perhaps no,' repeat along all paths.

What if you did not feel uncertainty, the white writing says. Are you exempt from doubt? Why not rename it excitement?

I stand here waiting. To disappear or sing.

You try to decide if you should take this as a message of endings. Or beginnings.

Whatever love meant there was some version of it that I felt for Winter. And it didn't matter if he felt that for me or not or if it was real love or just my sadness about my dad that had turned into longing. Love, that elusive leading lady, plays too many parts to be typecast.

Am I in the picture? Am I getting in or out of it? I could be a ghost, an animal or a dead body, not just this girl standing on the corner…?

It is time for writers to admit that nothing in this world makes sense. Only fools and charlatans think they know and understand everything. The stupider they are, the wider they conceive their horizons to be. And if an artist decides to declare that he understands nothing of what he sees—this in itself constitutes a considerable clarity in the realm of thought, and a great step forward.