Quotes About Confusion

But the truth is, I was also born in Missouri, the "Show-Me" state, into a Lutheran/Episcopalian/Jewish home, and attended Catholic school, which gave me enough theories about The Other Side and the journey of the soul to keep me perpetually confused if I had simply believed everything I heard without questioning it.

I don't know what the fuck you think you're doing, ace, but this Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde shit ain't cutting it with me.

I realized we'd pulled into a parking garage. We drove around two levels, pulled into a spot, then immediately pulled out again. Along with four other black Bentley SUVs. "What's going on?" I asked, as we headed back toward the exit with two Bentleys in front of us and two behind us. "Shell game," he said…

Must've been some lay for her to be so bent out of shape over it. I couldn't say, he muttered. I don't remember. Were you drunk? No. Jesus. He scrubbed at his face. What the hell did she tell you?

I don't believe I will ever understand men. The more I learn about them, the less they make sense

What in God's name does she see in you?" "I wish I knew. I would show her more of it.

He was a man who wanted no complications with his sex and I was a woman who found sex complicated

I know pretty much what I like and dislike; but please, don't ask me who I am.

In a rabbit-fear I may hurl myself under the wheels of the car because the lights terrify me, and under the dark blind death of wheels I will be safe. I am very tired, very banal, very confused. I do not know who I am tonight. I wanted to walk until I dropped and not complete the inevitable circle of coming home.

And I sit here without identity: faceless. My head aches.

When they asked me what I wanted to be I said I didn't know.

I wish you'd find the exit out of my head.

I am afraid. I am not solid, but hollow. I feel behind my eyes a numb, paralyzed cavern, a pit of hell, a mimicking nothingness. I never thought, I never wrote, I never suffered. I want to kill myself, to escape from responsibility, to crawl back abjectly into the womb. I do not know who I am, where I am going - and I am the one who has to decide the answers to these hideous questions.

Only I wasn't steering anything, not even myself.

It was a queer, sultry summer, the summer they electrocuted the Rosenbergs, and I didn't know what I was doing in New York.

You walked in, laughing, tears welling confused, mingling in your throat. How can you be so many women to so many people, oh you strange girl?

I, to you, am lost in the gorgeous errors of flesh.

I wondered what I thought I was burying.

It was becoming more and more difficult for me to decide to do anything in those last days. And when I eventually did decide to do something, such as packing a suitcase, I only dragged all my grubby, expensive clothes out of the bureau and the closet and spread them on the chairs and the bed and the floor and then sat and stared at them, utterly perplexed. They seemed to have a separate, mulish identity of their own that refused to be washed and folded and stowed.

What do you have in mind after you graduate? I really don't know, I heard myself say. I felt a deep shock hearing myself say that, because the minute I said it, I knew it was true.

I simply cannot see where there is to get to.

I simply don't know what to do. All joy and hope is gone.

Words, dimly familiar but twisted all awry, like faces in a funhouse mirror, fled past, leaving no impression on the glassy surface of my brain.

I tried to think what I had loved knives for, but my mind slipped from the noose of the thought and swung, like a bird, in the center of empty air.