Quotes About Confusion

No estoy segura de si dejó de estar enamorada de él o es que nunca lo estuvo. Enamorada, quiero decir.

I still love you and that's a really huge problem for me and it's also a really huge surprise. I swear I didn't know. All this time. I thought I was over it.

After a couple of minutes things aren't looking so familiar, and I realize I should have taken a left instead of a right. I push down the panic that's rising in my chest and I try to backtrack. You can do it, you can do it.

I think maybe I'm just tired of all this. This in-betweenness of being somebody's girlfriend but not really.

Alors pourquoi tu m'a embrassé ? demande-t-il. -Si je t'ai embrassé, c'est justement parce que je ne t'aimes pas, je lui explique, comme si ça tombait sous le sens.

IT'S NO FUN WATCHING PEOPLE WOUND THEMSELVES SO THAT THEY CAN HOLE UP, NURSE THEMSELVES BACK TO HEALTH, AND REPEAT THE CYCLE. THEY DON'T KNOW WHAT ELSE TO DO.

The problem I had with understanding Catholicism was that it seemed like there were loopholes everywhere. In my young brain, I couldn't quite grasp how there could be any loopholes with the very strict set of rules they gave us. It really confused me. I began to wonder how I could follow these rules when I didn't even know what they truly meant.

My parents were consistently inconsistent.

No set line between lost and not lost.

There is a period after every disaster in which people wander around trying to figure out if it is truly a disaster. Disaster psychologists use the term "milling" to describe most people's default actions when they find themselves in a frightening new situation.

It seemed possible that we'd traveled across the world in error.

The prime minister is a Labour Tory. There's a mosque at the end of your street and a French restaurant next door. We are neither in nor out of Europe. We are famous for our beer but we drink in wine bars. We are not a colonial power but we still have a commonwealth. We are jealous of the rich but we buy into the Hello! celebrity culture. We live in a United Kingdom that's no longer united. We are muddled.

The most difficult part of being a borderline personality has been the emptiness, the loneliness, and the intensity of feelings," she says today. "The extreme behaviors keep me so confused. At times I don't know what I'm feeling or who I am.

Even more so, the wisdom of God is displayed when He brings good to us and glory to Himself out of confusion and calamity rather than out of pleasant times.

All the perplexities, confusions, and distresses in America arise, not from defects in their constitution or confederation, not from a want of honor or virtue, so much as from downright ignorance of the nature of coin, credit, and circulation.

I wasn't sad after my father kissed the streetcar. If anything, it was a relief. Much as I missed him, his dying gave me an excuse to feel the way I already felt. Which was the way I felt right now, under the laundry room fluorescents: hollow, pissed off, wanting to be wherever I wasn't. Until I got there. Then I wanted to be somewhere else.

I love technology, and I love new gadgets. I can no longer figure out how to use any of them, but I love them.

She tried to clear her mind. It didn't work. Her mind was a hoarder.

If you FOCUS on your PRIORITIES---You ELIMINATE all of your CONFUSION.

I was on my way to work the other day, and I guess I got too close to someone's car, because the alarm started going off. I didn't want them to come back and be confused as to why it was going off, so I threw a brick through the windshield. I figured that would explain it.

Stupid kissing. Stupid roaming hands. Stupid boys.

Ako je psihoanaliza efikasna, to nije zato što pacijent prihvata nove teorije o razlozima svog nezadovoljstva, ve? zato što zahteva kapacitet za to da bude autenti?no zbunjen; on se ?udi otkri?u dela sebe, o ?ijem postojanju nije imao predstavu.

The storm lashes us, out of the confusion of grey and yellow the hail of splinters whips forth the childlike cries of the wounded, and in the night shattered life groans painfully into silence. Our hands are earth, our bodies clay and our eyes pools of rain. We do not know whether we are still alive.

Once I fall fast asleep. Then wakening suddenly with a start I do not know where I am. I see the stars, I see the rockets, and for a moment have the impression that I have fallen asleep at a garden fête. I don't know whether it is morning or evening, I lie in the pale cradle of the twilight, and listen for soft words which will come, soft and near—am I crying? I put my hand to my eyes, it is fantastic, am I a child?