Quotes About Doubt

Doubt is useful for a while. We must all pass through the garden of Gethsemane. If Christ played with doubt, so must we. If Christ spent an anguished night in prayer, if He burst out from the Cross, My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Then surely we are also permitted doubt. But we must move on. To choose doubt as a philosophy of life is akin to choosing immobility as a means of transportation.

To my mind, faith is like being in the sun. When you are in the sun, can you avoid creating a shadow? Can you shake that area of darkness that clings to you, always shaped like you, as if to constantly remind you of yourself? You can't. This shadow is doubt. And it goes wherever you go as long as you stay in the sun. And who wouldn't want to be in the sun?

Doubt is useful for awhile. We must all pass through the garden of Gesthemane. If Christ played with doubt, so must we. If Christ spent an anguished night in prayer, if He burst out from the Cross, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" then surely we are also permitted doubt. But we must move on. To choose doubt as a philosophy of life is akin to choosing immobility as a means of transportation.

We believe what we see.'...What do you do when you're in the dark?

From the place where we are right Flowers will never grow In the spring. The place where we are right Is hard and trampled Like a yard. But doubts and loves Dig up the world Like a mole, a plow. And a whisper will be heard in the place Where the ruined House once stood.

In a sense, every human construction, whether mental or material, is a component in a landscape of fear because it exists in constant chaos. Thus children's fairy tales as well as adult's legends, cosmological myths, and indeed philosophical systems are shelters built by the mind in which human beings can rest, at least temporarily, from the siege of inchoate experience and of doubt.

A healthy skepticism about all causation is wisest for both traditional and alternative approaches.

Then you begin to give up the very idea of belonging. Suddenly this thing, this belonging,it seems like some long, dirty lie ... and I begin to believe that birthplaces are accidents, that everything is an accident. But if you believe that, where do you go? What do you do? What does anything matter?

It's such a confidence trick, writing a novel. The main person you have to trick into confidence is yourself. This is hard to do alone.

I'm not sure if you're the person for me any more.

Faith is hard to achieve, easy to lose.

She lost God so smoothly and painlessly she had to wonder what she'd ever meant by the word.

And then you begin to give up the very idea of belonging. Suddenly this thing, this belonging, it seems some long, dirty lie... and I begin to believe that birthplaces are accidents, that everything is an accident. But if you believe that, where do you go? What do you do? What does anything matter?

For ridding oneself of faith is like boiling seawater to retrieve the salt—something is gained but something is lost.

or at least I felt that within the lie there was a deeper truth.

Cos if it's encyclopedias we've got enough, like, information... and if it's God, you've got the wrong house.

Faith involves an acceptance of absurdity.

It just goes to show,' said Alsana, revealing her English tongue, "you go back and back and back and it's still easier to find the correct Hoover bag than to find one pure person, one pure faith, on the globe.

Maybe I have thought intellect more important than faith. And now it seems this final temptation has been put in front of me.

Big words. But how fragile is Clara's atheism! Like one of those tiny glass doves Hortense keeps in the lounge cabinet – a breath would knock it over.

Millat was half sure that he was possibly maybe going to do something or not that would be correct and very silly and fine and un-good.

Prove to me that you are right. Prove to me that you are more right than God. Nothing on earth would do it. Because Ryan didn't believe in or care about anything on earth.

For ridding oneself of faith is like boiling sea-water to retrieve the salt – something is gained but something is lost. Though

Nobody seemed sure if it was the last ferry. We waited. Time passed, the sky turned pink.