Quotes About Doubt

God is not Tinkerbell. He does what he does whether you clap your hands or hide behind the comfort of your disbelief. Besides, you know all this. You just forgot.

I think people are slow to believe in any kind of change." "That's 'cause nobody ever changes," she said. "Do you really believe that? Not ever?" "Well. Hardly ever. I guess you could be the exception to the rule." She still sounded as though she planned to wait and see, but it was marvelous progress all the same. It made my whole day.

Petey boy?" "No, sir." "Guess." "Before just now I would've said zero.

what, or to whom? She'd long ago given up on any sort of God—probably while she was still a child—particularly the one forced on her by her parents. It seemed wrong to drag that relationship back into play now simply because she was afraid. It felt two-faced and selfish. She

He wanted to explain that a scared part of him was still scared. That no matter how many times Dad explained that Buddy was safe, the scared part of him never heard, or never believed. But he had no idea how to frame such a thought with words.

Things don't wait for you to believe them. They happen. God is not Tinkerbell. He does what he does whether you clap your hands or hide behind the comfort of your disbelief. Besides, you know all this. You just forgot.

We all go around saying we don't know where we stand with other people, because we don't know what they're thinking. Which is true. But we can feel where we stand with them. But then we get back into our heads and start second-guessing what we feel and get ourselves all confused and tangled up again.

Once you decide to put all your energy into being scared of something, you might wake up one day and find out you have no idea how to stop. It happens to people. More often than anybody seems willing to admit.

I never know what to make of relationships. Part of me feels like they're not right, but then another part of me doesn't know how right it's reasonable to expect them to be.

Sometimes you don't know exactly what it is but you know in your heart it's not good.

Somehow Bea knew the key would have to be an utter lack of preparation. Of anticipation. Once she allowed space for doubt, she would never overcome it.

I didn't know if I had saved a life or not. For that, the person you tried to save has to survive.

anybody can think the world is beautiful when it's all going their way. That's just like untested faith.

It was actually harder to think about moving forward into whatever unknown situation they had planned for me than to ditch out and go back to what I knew. What I knew was terrible, but at least I knew it, and there's something that's almost a comfort in that.

Who knows why people are scared of things, right? If

She is dead. Almost certainly dead. Nearly conclusively dead. She is, at the very least, not answering her telephone.

She felt as she often did in class when she was nearly sure she had the right answer, but could not always make herself raise her hand.

everything in the world is a boxing match in your heart, between Boldness and Not-Boldness. You let them holler inside you and wallop each other with Arguments For and Against. Then you end by betting on one or the other and that's how things get decided.

I've no idea what I shall do when I am grown! I don't suppose there is much call for Knights or Bishops or Heroines in Omaha or even Chicago. And I'm sure other girls are much better at it than I.

Why…" Sophia raises her eyes to the ceiling, searching for a divinity that is not there, not for her. Her eyes fill up with hopelessness. She asks a question older than day and night. "Why doesn't He love me like He loves you?" Tears fall down her perfect face. "Why does He let you do this? Why won't He tell you to stop?

looked straight at her. 'Donna, I think Edna

I sighed. I don't know what to do. Velma Richards seems like a woman who will carry out her threat". "No Doubt It's a crusade for her. " Moments passed. "Not much Christian about it is there?" I felt like snorting. I don't know it pretty well fits with what I've come to expect of Christians.

The lie that Asians have it good is so insidious that even now as I write, I'm shadowed by doubt that I didn't have it bad compared to others. But racial trauma is not a competitive sport. The problem is not that my childhood was exceptionally traumatic but that it was in fact rather typical.

A now-classic book that explores minor feelings is Claudia Rankine's Citizen. After hearing a racist remark, the speaker asks herself, What did you say? She saw what she saw, she heard what she heard, but after her reality has been belittled so many times, she begins to doubt her very own senses.