Quotes About Turbulence

The sound of the engine changed from a hardworking drone to a hum. My stomach lurched to my chest. Now we would fall out of the sky. We hit a bump, and the plane lifted, as if soaring over a bubble. I waited for the corresponding drop. It didn't come.

As one becomes increasingly unsteady (restless), one increases entanglements.

Order is needed by the ignorant but it takes a genius to master chaos.

In the wind of the mind arises the turbulence called I. It breaks; down shower the barren thoughts. All life is choked. This desert is the abyss wherein the Universe. The Stars are but thistles in that waste. Yet this desert is but one spot accursed in a world of bliss

In the Wind of the mind arises the turbulence called I.

They sicken at the calm that know the storm.

They sicken of the calm that know the storm.

They sicken of the calm who know the storm.

There are moments when you think you will cry forever. You never do. Eventually, sheer physical exhaustion forces you to stop, to settle, to becalm yourself amidst all the mad turbulence of bereavement.

In no order of things is adolescence the time of the simple life.

I smell blood and an era of prominent madmen.

Life sucks order from a sea of disorder.

Life is a long headache in a noisy street.

This is the best worst time of my life.

o diabo na rua, no meio do redemoinho…

The universe gets more disorderly all the time.

Linda's uptight too, but in a disheveled way. Her wires are crossed and split and her energy flow is a mess.

Why they came east I don't know. They had spent a year in France, for no particular reason, and then drifted here and there unrestfully wherever people played polo and were rich together. This was a permanent move, said Daisy over the telephone, but I didn't believe it—I had no sight into Daisy's heart but I felt that Tom would drift on forever seeking a little wistfully for the dramatic turbulence of some irrecoverable football game.

his heart was in a constant, turbulent riot.

Life was a damned muddle . . . a football game with every one off-side and the referee gotten rid of—every one claiming the referee would have been on his side. . . .

Who is not revolted by the idea of our soul's carnal origin, of the corporeal turbulence out of which our flesh is born, and which, however beautiful, is soiled by its origin, its birth?

I used to stay getting in fights.

Markets tend to shake you up before a bull run.

In this world without quiet corners, there can be no easy escapes from history, from hullabaloo, from terrible, unquiet fuss.