Quotes About Confusion

But the experiment had never stopped. "There was the transition, very well defined," Swinney said. "So that was great. Then we went on, to look for the next one." There the expected Landau sequence broke down. Experiment failed to confirm theory. At the next transition the flow jumped all the way to a confused state with no distinguishable cycles at all. No new frequencies, no gradual buildup of complexity. "What we found was, it became chaotic.

Right now I'm having amnesia and deja vu at the same time. I think I've forgotten this before. Steven Wright

a confused heap of mingle-mangle").

On two occasions I have been asked,—"Pray, Mr. Babbage, if you put into the machine wrong figures, will the right answers come out?" In one case a member of the Upper, and in the other a member of the Lower, House put this question. I am not able rightly to apprehend the kind of confusion of ideas that could provoke such a question.

Being abused causes pain, outrage, hate, vengeance, confusion, and misery can only break what goodness remains.

The hardest things to talk about are the ones we ourselves can't understand.

I thought I understood what's happening to me, but this isn't like being robbed a penny at a time I knew that something was wrong and I don't like being like this.

Sometimes I have thoughts that even I don't understand. Thoughts that aren't even true—that aren't really how I feel—but they're running through my head anyways.

The most confused you will ever get, is when you try to convince yourself of something your mind knows is a lie.

Grief we try to understand it, but it leaves us feeling lost and confused." But love means letting go when you want to hold on tighter.

I can't decide whether I'm a good girl wrapped up in a bad girl, or if I'm a bad girl wrapped up in a good girl.

It is the controller of Nature alone that can bring light out of darkness, and order out of confusion. Who is he that causeth the mole, from his secret path of darkness, to throw up the gem, the gold, and the precious ore? The same that from the mouths of babes and sucklings can extract the perfection of praise, and who can make the most abject of his creatures instrumental in bringing the most hidden truths to light.

I did not know whether I would ever speak to her or not or, if I spoke to her, how I could tell her of my confused adoration. But my body was like a harp and her words and gestures were like fingers running upon the wires.

Her name sprang to my lips at moments in strange prayers and praises which I myself did not understand. My eyes were often full of tears (I could not tell why) and at times a flood from my heart seemed to pour itself out into my bosom. I thought little of the future. I did not know whether I would ever speak to her or not or, if I spoke to her, how I could tell her of my confused adoration.

Does nobody understand?

And whowasit youwasit propped the pot in the yard and whatinthe nameofsen lukeareyou rubbinthe sideofthe flureofthe lobbywith Shite! will you have a plateful? Tak.

She asked me why I never came, said she had heard all sorts of stories about me. This was only to gain time. Asked me, was I writing poems? About whom? I asked her. This confused her more and I felt sorry and mean. Turned off that valve at once and opened the spiritual-heroic refrigerating apparatus, invented and patented in all countries by Dante Alighieri...

My eyes were often full of tears (I could not tell why) and at times a flood from my heart seemed to pour itself out into my bosom. I thought little of the future. I did not know whether I would ever speak to her or not or, if I spoke to her, how I could tell her of my confused adoration. But my body was like a harp and her words and gestures were like fingers running upon the wires.

A dream of favours, a favourable dream. They know how they believe that they believe that they know. Wherefore they wail.

slow eyes and parted lips gave her the appearance of a woman who did not know where she was or where she was going.

Ullahbluh! Sehyoh narar, pokehole sann! Manhead very dirty by am anoyato. Like old Dolldy Icon when he cooked up his iggs in bicon. He gatovit and me gotafit and Oalgoak's Cheloven gut a fudden. Povar old pitschobed! Molodeztious

Dammad and Groany, into her limited (tuff, tuff, que tu es pitre!) lapse at the same slapse for towelling ends in their dolightful Sexsex home, (...)

He doesn't know what he's saying. Taking a little more than is good for him. Absinthe, the greeneyed monster. I know him. He's a gentleman, a poet. It's alright.

The faint sour stink of rotted cabbages came towards him from the kitchengardens on the rising ground above the river. He smiled to think that it was this disorder, the misrule and confusion of his father's house and the stagnation of vegetable life, which was to win the day in his soul.