Quotes About Questioning

Did you follow me here?" I asked. Lake shrugged. "The word follow seems to suggest you got here first.

What is the human condition, if not Why me?

What the elf, Avery? What the everlasting mothing-foxing elf is going on there?

I don't need your permission to search your locker." The headmaster's tone drew my attention back in his direction. This, I inferred from the rise in volume, was supposed to be the voice of authority. If you didn't need my permission, I thought, then why did you ask for it?

I wondered and I prayed and I Googled.

Ivy gave the woman's hand a firm squeeze before letting it go. "What do you need?" she asked. "We're holding up." That, too, sounded like a rote reply, recited over and over again in hopes that it might somehow become the truth.

Identify the assumptions implicit in your own logic," Grayson said, clearly citing a dictate he'd been taught. "Then negate them.

If it had been me in the woods, if I'd been the one to go with Briggs, if I'd been the one you saw at the exact second . . . would it have been me? He didn't finish the question and I didn't answer it

I was in bed, thinking about everything Max had said, wondering if I was fundamentally selfish or needy person, when I heard a sound like scratching in the wall.

Socrates counts among those great minds who actually cultivated doubt in the name of truth.

One must devote oneself to figuring out that one must live for the good, for its own sake. It was a secular morality. Contemporaries did not know what to call a thing like that—he questioned their every faith, their every way of life—so they called it atheism.

Is today a good day to die?

Is today a good day to die? Is today the day? And if not today–when?

Which of my feelings are real? Which of the mes is me?

God is God and He lets things happen and that's all there is to it. But He has reasons, and His reasons for something happening would be more important than a man's reason for questioning whatever it might

If I were to be totally sincere, I would say that I do not know why I live and why I do not stop living. The answer probably lies in the irrational character of life which maintains itself without reason.

Do I look like someone who has something to do here on earth?' —That's what I'd like to answer the busybodies who inquire into my activities.

When I asked my extra-terrestrial friend why he took me in, he merely replied, What alternative did you have?

Pero como aquí —observó Nucha, formulando sencillamente una observación histórico-filosófica de bastante alcance— no ve uno sino las atrocidades de los señores de otro tiempo... parece que son las únicas que le dan en qué pensar... ¿Por qué serán tan malos cristianos los hombres? —añadió entreabriendo los labios con cándido asombro.

Is she sane?' asked Mrs. Linton, appealing to me. 'I'll repeat our conversation, word for word, Isabella; and you point out any charm it could have had for you.

The world is surely not worth living now, is it?

When I asked her what was the matter? answered, she didn't know; but she felt so afraid of dying!

Do you believe such people are happy in the other world, sir?  I'd give a great deal to know. I declined answering Mrs. Dean's question, which struck me as something heterodox.  She proceeded: Retracing the course of Catherine Linton, I fear we have no right to think she is; but we'll leave her with her Maker.

I years had been from home, And now, before the door, I dared not open, lest a face I never saw before Stare vacant into mine And ask my business there. My business,—just a life I left, Was such still dwelling there?