Quotes About Confusion

You don't understand much, he says. Why do you think I was lost in the impenetrable forest in the first place?

He loved her so much when he made her unhappy, or else when she made him unhappy: at these moments he scarcely knew which was which. He would pat her, standing well back as with strange dogs, stretching out his hand, saying, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." And he was sorry, but there was more to it: he was also gloating, congratulating himself, because he'd managed to create such an effect.

But it's difficult to be grateful for the absence of an unknown quantity.

Female artists are biologically confused, said Crake.

I felt confused, and also inadequate; whatever he was asking or demanding, it was beyond me. this was the first time a man would expect more from me than i was capable of giving, but it wouldn't be the last.

Is this purgatory, and if it is, why is it so much like the first grade?

When you are in the middle of a story it isn't a story at all, but only a confusion; a dark roaring, a blindness, a wreckage of shattered glass and splintered wood; like a house in a whirlwind, or else a boat crushed by the icebergs or swept over the rapids, and all aboard powerless to stop it. It's only afterwards that it becomes anything like a story at all.

I'm such a mess," he says. "Sometimes I think everyone's dead.

Is it disapproval or extreme lust? Toby wonders. With some men it's hard to tell the difference.

He loved her so much when he made her unhappy, or else when she made him unhappy: at these moments he scarcely knew which was which.

Who is this Fuck?" says Abraham Lincoln. "Why is he talking to this Fuck? That is not the name of anyone here.

They are entering the forest of amnesia, where things have lost their names.

Oh, torture. Is this purgatory, and if it is, why is it so much like the first grade?

I had no direction in life, and I felt numb inside, like an orphan.

He ran both his hands through his hair, as if somehow that would straighten out his thoughts.

She felt puzzled and ashamed, as always when people attributed to her emotions and motives they possessed and thought she shared.

Then above the confused sounds Stuart Tarleton's voice rose, in an exultant shout, 'Yee-aay-ee!' as if he were on the hunting field. And she heard for the first time, without knowing it, the Rebel yell.

Somehow she found that she was sitting on the low velvet chair and Ashley, on the hassock at her feet, was holding both her hands in his, in a hard grip. He was saying things—things that made no sense. Her mind was quite blank, quite empty of all the thoughts that had surged through it only a moment before, and his words made no more impression than rain on glass. They fell on unhearing ears, words that were swift and tender and full of pity, like a father speaking to a hurt child.

There's an old story about the person who wished his computer were as easy to use as his telephone. That wish has come true, since I no longer know how to use my telephone.

I don't do well with technology.

He (Branch Rickey) must think I went to the Massachesetts Constitution of Technology.

Because I do think - not just in building AOL - but just the world in which we live is a very confusing, rapidly changing world where technology has accelerated.

The technology is good and it's bad. You know what you're dealing with out there musically, but my head stops at this electronic stuff. I don't quite know what I'm dealing with out there yet.

I don't understand technology, and I'm very scared of it.