Quotes About Confusion

Doze vozes gritavam, cheias de ódio, e eram todas iguais. Não havia dúvida, agora, quanto ao que sucedera à fisionomia dos porcos. As criaturas de fora olhavam de um porco para um homem, de um homem para um porco e de um porco para um homem outra vez; mas já era impossível distinguir quem era homem, quem era porco.

Le creature di fuori gurdavano dal maiale all'uomo dall'uomo al maiale e ancora dal maiale all'uomo, ma già era loro impossibile distinguere fra i due.

The creatures outside looked from pig to man, and from man to pig, and from pig to man again; but already it was impossible to say which was which

No había duda de la transformación ocurrida en las caras de los cerdos. Los animales asombrados, pasaron su mirada del cerdo al hombre, y del hombre al cerdo; y, nuevamente, del cerdo al hombre; pero ya era imposible distinguir quién era uno y quién era otro.

It was curious that he seemed not merely to have lost the power of expressing himself, but even to have forgotten what it was that he had originally intended to say.

Los animales asombrados, pasaron su mirada del cerdo al hombre, y del hombre al cerdo; y, nuevamente, del cerdo al hombre; pero ya era imposible distinguir quién era uno y quién era otro

NASIL'?n? anl?yorum: NEDEN'ini anlam?yorum.

The world is not respectable; it is mortal, tormented, confused, deluded forever; but it is shot through with beauty, with love, with glints of courage and laughter; and in these, the spirit blooms timidly, and struggles to the light amid the thorns.

Chaos is a name for any order that produces confusion in our minds.

Just before I doze off, I counsel myself grandiosely: Fuck concepts. Don't be afraid to be confused. Try to remain permanently confused. Anything is possible. Stay open, forever, so open it hurts, and then open up some more, until the day you die, world without end, amen.

I'm bleeding at the knees and choking from smoke and have no idea who these people are or where I'm going, but at least I'm off the hook in terms of the hand jobs.

Why was it, she sometimes wondered, that in dreams we can't do the simplest things? Like a crying puppy is standing on some broken glass and you want to pick it up and brush the shards off its pads but you can't because you're balancing a ball on your head. Or you're driving and there's this old guy on crutches and you go, to Mr. Feder, your Driver's Ed teacher, Should I swerve? And he's like, Uh, probably. But then you hear this big clunk and Feder makes a negative mark in his book.

And they left, neither knowing how close they had come to getting Darkenfloxxedâ"¢ out their wing-wangs.

Just before I doze off, I counsel myself grandiosely: Fuck concepts. Don't be afraid to be confused. Try to remain permanently confused. Anything is possible. Stay open, forever, so open it hurts, and then open up some more, until the day you die, world without end, amen.

There's a confusion in each of us, a sickness, really: selfishness. But there's also a cure. So be a good and proactive and even somewhat desperate patient on your own behalf — seek out the most efficacious anti-selfishness medicines, energetically, for the rest of your life.

It is on a day like this one, a little later, a little earlier, that you discover, without surprise, that something is wrong, that, without mincing words, you don't know how to live, that you will never know.

Los caminos que seguían, los valores a los que se abrían, sus perspectivas, sus deseos, sus ambiciones, todo eso, es cierto, les parecía a veces desesperadamente vacío. No conocían nada que no fuera frágil o confuso. Era, sin embargo, su vida, era la fuente de exaltaciones desconocidas, más que embriagadoras, era algo inmensa, intensamente abierto.

It is on a day like this one, a little later, a little earlier, that you discover, without surprise, that something is wrong, that, without mincing words, you don't know how to live, that you will never know.

Todo se contradicía con eles, e en primeiro lugar a vida mesma. Eles querían gozar da vida, pero, por todas partes, ó seu redor, gozo confundíase coa propiedade.

I felt for too long anyway that there was something creaky about this story. You needn't try to understand, but when all the material clues manage to confuse matters rather than clarify them, it means they've been faked … and everything, without exception, is fake in this case. It all creaked.

She walked home', explained Sir Roland. 'We were walking home, weren't we? Very well, then. She walked home. Passed Lethbridge's house. Went in. Hit him on the head with the poker. Came out. Met us in the street. There you are. Plain as a pikestaff.' 'Well, I don't know,' said the Viscount. 'Seems queer to me.

O God, Mama, I've made such a mull of it! What am I to do?

If someone would have the goodness to inform me whether I am assisting at a tragedy or a farce I should be grateful

Well, damn it, I think that prosy fool Bridlington was right for once in his life! You've gone stark, staring mad! Very true! I've known it for this half hour and more.