Quotes About Turbulence

Fear is a rushing sound, like water, in my ears.

My head is quite literally becoming a diseased volcano. Great storms and mighty dawns.

I can barely recall a single holiday when my father didn't make a scene or create some kind of chaos. We were always walking on eggshells.

Things are neither clear nor clean in the world of football right now and many people recognise this reality.

We live in a crazy world. You don't know what's going to happen.

Chaos is the undercurrent of everything that happens in life.

A not-too-distant explosion shakes the house, the windows rattle in their sockets, and in the next room the class of 1964 wakes up and lets out a yell or two. Each time this happens I find myself thinking, Is it possible that human beings can continue with this lunacy very much longer? You know the answer, of course.

No emotion was pure, because everything was mixed up with fear and hatred.

In politics, you're like a toilet seat: you're up one day and down the next.

I hated the bangs in the war: I always felt a silent war would be more tolerable.

Moods invent the man. I am a creation of turbulence, a rider of an ongoing merry-go-round.

Look, we're living in a crazy time right now. There's a lot of craziness going on in the world and in the United States in particular.

So shaken as we are, so wan with care, Find we a time for frighted peace to pant And breathe short-winded accents of new broils To be commenced in stronds afar remote.

Where there is peace, there cannot be chaos; the two cannot coexist at the same time.

It's chaos out there, and chaos is what we need.

No começo, Liesel não conseguiu dizer nada. Talvez fosse a súbita turbulência do amor que sentiu por ele. Ou será que sempre o tinha amado? Era provável. Impedida como estava de falar, desejou que ele a beijasse. Quis que ele arrastasse sua mão e a puxasse para si. Não importava onde a beijasse. Na boca, no pescoço, na face. Sua pele estava vazia para o beijo, esperando.

Si lance was not quiet and calm, and it was not peace.

God, there was such joy and fear there, such brilliant commotion.

Cargaban sobre sus espaldas un barril de odio antiguo, prendido con una mecha reciente.

How hard it is to sleep in the middle of life.

There is more to life than just surviving it. Inside each turbulence there is a calm -- a sliver of light buried in the darkness.

Life has always taken place in a tumult without apparent cohesion, but it only finds its grandeur and its reality in ecstasy and in ecstatic love.

I had been having trouble sleeping, and had found that actually getting up was marginally preferable to lying in my bed batting away the swirling mess of my thoughts.

Now it feels like living with her is a series of small explosions, like he never knows what is coming next.