Quotes About Doubt

The same common-sense which makes an author write good things, makes him dread they are not good enough to deserve reading.

A man in health questions whether there is a God, and he also doubts whether it be a sin to have intercourse with a woman, who is at liberty to refuse ; but when he falls ill, or when his mistress is with child, she is discarded, and he believes in God.

There are few wives so perfect as not to give their husbands at least once a day good reason to repent of ever having married, or at least of envying those who are unmarried.

You saw me vacillating between error and truth, loving them equally because unable to distinguish the one from the other; the hour marked out by God for my enlightenment has come: He has shown me the powerlessness of reason, and the necessity of faith.

If I don't know I don't know I think I know If I don't know I know I think I don't know

The human mind has to ask "Who, what, whence, whither, why am I?" And it is very doubtful if the human mind can answer any of these questions.

The schizophrenic may indeed be mad. He is mad. He is not ill. I have been told by people who have been through the mad experience how what was then revealed to them was veritable manna from Heaven. The person's whole life may be changed, but it is difficult not to doubt the validity of such vision. Also, not everyone comes back to us again.

But he is pretty. God, I hope he's not an asshole. Do you think there's any chance he's both non-orifice and single? I mean, seriously. What are the chances?

How could you tell if your instincts were just hope in disguise, and if your hope was really desperation parading as possibility?

Are you saying you don't love me?" Hazael asked Liraz. "Because I love you. I think." He paused in contemplation. "Oh. No. Never mind. That's fear.

I start to wonder if I'm being creepy. I mean, I am creeping. Does creep-ing automatically make one creep-y? Or are there dispensations for…romance? I bet all stalkers believe they're being romantic. I did it for love, officer.

Her courage was a guise. She wondered if courage always was, or if there were those who truly felt no fear.

Was there another life she was meant to be living? At times she felt a keen certainty that there was ? a phantom life, taunting her from just out of reach. A sense would come over her while she was drawing or walking, and once while she was dancing slow and close with Kaz, that she was supposed to be doing something else with her hands, with her legs, with her body. Something else. Something else. Something else.

It's my personal theory that only 27 percent of perceived confidence is actual confidence, and the rest is sham. The key is: If you can't tell the difference, there is no difference.

Then it was all over. Or maybe it wasn't. The ones who know can't tell us, and the ones who tell us don't know.

It was, and then it wasn't. Karou's stomach roiled as she contemplated the possibility of being so suddenly not.

The hope at odds with the fear of hoping.

Hope was mirage, and none trusted easily to it.

Karou had certainly learned that "possible" and "impossible" were rough categories at best.

He thought that there was plenty out there, and allowed that maybe some of it was even eternal, but he wasn't sure any of it needed a name and so many little houses built on its behalf in the countryside out of wood and stone.

Tertawa bisa menunda kesangsian. Itulah efek narkotik seni. Aku akan hirup habis-habisan karena besok semuanya akan punah dan kita semua akan merasa hampa.

I felt alternately rubbery and empty, like sometimes I was landing on the Swiss cheese, sometimes on the holes.

The inner Min starved; she woke in the middle of the night, then lay for hours wondering what was wrong.

Is he dead?" he inquired. "He looks dead." "No," snapped Maryse. "He's not dead." "Have you checked? I could kick him if you want.