Quotes About Confusion

A brief laugh escaped him as he saw her confusion. "You're a horsewoman, aye?" he asked, and nudged upward with his hips. "Ride.

What the devil is going on?" West spluttered as Kathleen towed him outside and around to the side of the stables. "I dressed and came to the stables at the crack of dawn--" "The crack of dawn was four hours ago.

You know what I'm thinking?' Maggie said. I had no idea. 'Nope,' David replied. Apparently David didn't know either. Maggie turned to me with pleading eyes.'Our babysitter has the flu.' 'I'm sorry to hear that,' I replied. Dead silence. I honestly had no idea what Maggie was getting at, so I misread the silence. 'It's not serious, I hope,' I said sympathetically.

Luna nodded at Greg, who returned the look with an embarrassed smile. Greg always seemed confused by his wife's behavior, as if she were an alien with entirely different customs from his.

The girl was confused. It was a misunderstanding. That's all. What was the crux of the misunderstanding? She didn't say no.

Watercress. Jesus. He knew every gun that had ever been manufactured. Every hold in every martial art. This was beyond him. What the fuck was watercress?

Lisa Plumley

Why had they taken her car?

I do not know what to do with the emotions inside me. I do not know how to be this close to someone and still hold on to myself.

Well, hello there," I said, "you big, beautiful overgrown passageway." I looked over to Lia. "Let's confuse 'em a little.

Things could be worse is wearing thin. I'm exhausted. I'm confused. I am effectively talking to the air.

Gus and I talk about girls a lot, but we can't figure them out. They are so confusing. Like, if you look at them, they get mad. And if you don't look at them, they get mad. And if you're nice to them, they think you like them. And if you're mean to them, they think you like them. And if you do like them, they think you hate them.

Even Cheetah said, "I don't want to like her, but sometimes I think I do. Wait! Did I just say that?

Am I a vampire?" Massie asked. "Huh?" Alicia asked. "Then why are you keeping me in the dark?

Sidonie," he said, his voice strangely hoarse. "You are the most—I mean, you are so…I find you…ah, devil take it! Never mind!" "I beg your pardon?" "Nothing," he growled. "I misspoke. What did you say about oranges?

Maybe you should write her a letter, Mia. In it, you could sort out what you feel, tell her your confusion. You could even apologize for that which you have no idea you've done if you want. Thank her for the great times you've just described to me. It would force her to acknowledge what she is doing here, and at the same time help you to find your way to some closure in it.

In the West we are so addicted to the notion of progress that we project this idea onto our spiritual life, and can become very confused by the dawning realization that He whom we seek is always with us, that we are always close to Him but do not know it. The spiritual path is a process of revealing this nearness, the intimacy of love that is always with us.

It is a queer thing. In a time of great need, when powerful leadership is demanded, the people—confused and excited—hear only the strident voices of the audacious, and refuse to listen to the voice of wisdom which, being wise, is temperate.

Nor could you clarify this confusion by assuming that the old man had been a victim of hallucination. Bartholomew wasn't that type of person. He was neither a liar nor a fool.

We were not sure how to receive them, even though they were our boys.

The old know what they want the young are sad and bewildered.

Marriage was a lottery, and you drew your lot in late adolescence or early adulthood at a point of maximum idiocy and confusion.

Je n'ai envie de rien, je ne sais pas quoi faire, je ne veux pas dormir, je ne veux pas rester éveillée. Je n'ai pas faim. Je ne veux pas être seule, je ne veux voir personne. J'ai l'impression d'être en sursis. Je suis juste complètement défoncée. La vérité se fait jour avec lenteur et me laisse vide... A... même A... ce que je m'en fiche.

I try to cry, and can't, but even with dry eyes it's all so confusing.