Quotes About Confusion

So now what? Kick down the door . . . and then what? Find an old lady in a weird white dress and demand she explain her whack-a-doodle rants? Maybe she had gone upstairs. Maybe Bat Lady was now getting ready for her loony day, changing out of her white dress, heading to the shower . . . Ugh.

So add up all the new clues and… Broome didn't have a clue. And

You're kidding, right?" Broome couldn't have looked more incredulous without plastic surgery. "Let me get this straight: Ray Levine told you that he showed up after you saw Stewart Green lying there.

The mixing of metaphors was making Myron dizzy. "Sure. I don't want to cause any problems.

I mean, what do you do, when you find that things are not what you were taught they're supposed to be? What do you do with the desperation that boils up from your stomach when you know there's a road out there with your destination at the end of it, but it's too damned dark to even find the road? You turn and turn and turn around like a dog trying to escape. Shrieks in the cavity of your head that so urgently needs to be filled with facts and challenges.

As you grew up, when you were grown, totally unknown to yourself, you confused your father with God. You never saw him as a man with a man's heart, and a man's failings—I'll grant you it may have been hard to see, he makes so few mistakes, but he makes 'em like all of us.

She went to him. "Atticus," she said. "I'm—" "You may be sorry, but I'm proud of you." She looked up and saw her father beaming at her. "What?" "I said I'm proud of you." "I don't understand you. I don't understand men at all and I never will." "Well, I certainly hoped a daughter of mine'd hold her ground for what she thinks is right—stand up to me first of all.

Madam, my father has left me flopping like a flounder at low tide and you say what's the matter.

I thought she was going to spit in it, which was the only reason anybody in Maycomb held out his hand: it was a time-honored method of sealing oral contracts. Wondering what bargain we had made, I turned to the class for an answer, but the class looked back at me in puzzlement.

Ä°nsanlar bir nedenle birbirine güvenirdi; nedenini unuttum.

It takes Burnett only a moment to figure out what I'm talking about, but says, 'I'm on it. What's wrong with your voice?' 'I'm eating biscuits.' 'You're eating biscuits?' Burnett is obviously still a bit sleepy, since I couldn't have made myself much clearer. 'Yes, sir. I'm eating biscuits. Stolen chocolate digestives. Oh, also, we're going to need some ambulances.' 'Ambulances?' 'Sir, is this a new game where you repeat everything I say?

In the world we live in, what we know and what we don't know are like Siamese twins, inseparable, existing in a state of confusion.

I'm free, I think. I shut my eyes and think hard and deep about how free I am, but I can't really understand what it means. All I know is I'm totally alone. All alone in an unfamiliar place, like some solitary explorer who's lost his compass and his map. Is this what it means to be free? I don't know, and I give up thinking about it.

When I wake up, my pillow's cold and damp with tears. But tears for what? I have no idea.

Understanding is but the sum of misunderstandings.

I want to believe you, but if that's true, I just don't get it. Why does loving somebody mean you have to hurt them just as much? I mean, if that's the way it goes, what's the point of loving someone?

This was never any place I was meant to be. This isn't a place for me.

How can I put this? There's a king of gap between what I think is real and what's really real. I get this feeling like some kind of little something-or-other is there, somewhere inside me... like a burglar is in the house, hiding in a wardrobe... and it comes out every once in a while and messes up whatever order or logic I've established for myself. The way a magnet can make a machine go crazy.

I can never say what I want to say, it's been like this for a while now. I try to say something but all I get are wrong words - the wrong words or the exact opposite words from what I mean. I try to correct myself, and that only makes it worse. I lose track of what I was trying to say to begin with. It's like I'm split in two and playing tag with myself. One half is chasing this big, fat post. The other me has the right words, but this can't catch her.

But knowing what I don't want to do doesn't help me figure out what I do want to do. I could do just about anything if somebody made me. But I don't have an image of the one thing I really want to do. That's my problem now. I can't find the image.

Everything was too sharp and clear, so that I could never tell where to start- the way a map that shows too much can sometimes be useless.

I couldn't be sure if I had moved forward or fallen behind, or if I was just circling over the same spot.

Well, finally, the events I've been through have been tremendously complicated. All kinds of characters have come on the scene, and strange things have happened one after another, to the point where, if I try to think about them in order, I lose track.

I'm not very good at giving people orderly explanations of things.