Quotes About Confusion

Dave? This is John." "What are you-" Alive? "-in an ambulance or something?" "Yes and no. Are you still at the police station?" "Yeah. We were both-" "Have I died yet?

English should have a word for that feeling you get when you first wake up in a strange room and have no freaking idea where you are. Hotezzlement?

It had the tangled floor plan common to all hospitals, seemingly designed by someone who believed in the healing power of watching confused visitors aimlessly wander around hallways.

Folding chairs were flying through the air as if propelled by dozens of invisible Bobby Knights.

At this point, John flung himself to the ground and screamed, "YOU SHOT ME! AAARRRRGHHH!" Not a shot had been fired. I rushed to John's side. "You shot him! He has four kids! Or should I say, four orphans.

Nope. No idea.

I squinted drunkenly into the rearview mirror and tried in vain to find the headlights of the black truck that was chasing us, but I actually wasn't sure if its drivers needed headlights to see or if they even had eyes. I also wasn't sure it was a truck, or if it was black, or if we were being pursued at all. It was definitely raining, though.

And so, feeling like men trying to work a jigsaw puzzle blindfolded and using only our butt cheeks to grip the pieces, we left.

He then wrestled away the man's gun and "dick-whipped" him with it. I am unclear as to whether or not this means he struck the man in the groin or merely slapped him in the same manner in which he would slap a person with his dick.

You see, because John and I have this thing where we're both seeing completely different versions of you. Now, John has eyesight problems because of his constant masturbation, but I don't think—" She burst into snakes.

Molech swung and kicked and slaughtered Mexican food with every mighty blow, while a quarter billion extremely confused Blink users watched. And

Being human, they often confuse the World–soul's intention with their most basic desires.

What did people do before they could go online and find answers to secret problems? Oh right, they killed themselves

Another component of my "mystique" was my appearance: I wore leather jackets because their weight and thickness calmed me; dark glasses, sometimes even at night, because they cut out some of the stimulation to my nervous system; and heavy boots that made me feel secure and grounded as I clomped around in them. I must have looked like a perfect practiced stud with all the trimmings, when in reality I was withdrawn and armored primarily out of anxiety and confusion.

He didn't know whether to laugh or cry, and suddenly wanted to do both.

Feeling like your life's been ripped apart and put together again, only put together wrong.

2 + 2 = 5: the sum of all fears

It's not always easy to see which end is up.

Dad's final will was written and signed eleven days before he died. The original will it replaced disappeared and has never been found....I can't imagine him wanting to make such radical changes a few days before he died. I don't believe for one minute that he truly understood what was going on.

I had forgot," I said slowly, "Forgot what?" "That talking to you is like staring into a carnival looking glass. Up is down, down is up, Nothing makes sense." "Of course it does." His voice was gentle and his smile back in evidence. "Veronica, do you think I enjoy playing the villain? I loathe it. I want only to be left alone, but like any creature, I will fight if I am cornered...

Those questions you have? Whether he's the one, whether you feel about him the way you should, or whether the relationship is going okay? When you're not sure whether you're in love with someone or not, the answer is not.

Love." She looked at me with those blue eyes. "Isn't it astonishing how confused and complicated such a small,simple word is? It attracts so many other things, doesn't it, that stick to it like barnacles on rock...fear, guilt. Need. You can't even see the rock anymore. I imagine love in its purest form is a rare thing.

You've got an in-love feeling, but the relationship is damaging. When do you stop calling it love?

Usually, I set one foot in a library and I feel my own internal volume lower. A library is a physical equivalent of a sigh. It's the silence, sure, but it's also the certainty of all those books, the way they stand side by side with their still, calm conviction. It's the reassurance of knowledge in the face of confusion.