Quotes About Doubt

It isn't necessarily easier if you know what it is you're meant to do—but at least you don't waste time in questioning or doubting. If you're honest—well, that isn't necessarily easier, either. Though I suppose if you're honest with yourself and know what you are, at least you're less likely to feel that you've wasted your life, doing the wrong thing.

Sometimes it would be months—even a year or more—between episodes, and we would live in peace together. But then it would happen again; the silent phone calls, the too-excused absences, the late nights. Never anything so overt as another woman's perfume, or lipstick on his collar—he had discretion. But I always felt the ghost of the other woman, whoever she was; some faceless, indistinguishable She. I

Well, that's the hell of it, isn't it?" she said, turning away. "You never know, but you have to act anyway, don't you?

Being in a state of grace is all very well, but I imagine even Joan of Arc had qualms when they lit the first brand.

I cried then, holding nothing back. For empty years, yearning for the touch of a hand. Hollow years, lying beside a man I had betrayed, for whom I had no tenderness. For the terrors and doubts and griefs of the day. Cried for him and me and for Mary MacNab, who knew what loneliness was—and what love was, as well.

was slipping, and his face had gone as white as my own. He looked down again, avoiding my stricken gaze. "I suppose all I was wondering," he murmured, "was…was he…was he different from me?" I saw him bite his lip as though wishing the words unsaid, but it was far too late

The ninth Earl of Ellesmere had his chin thrust out as far as it would go, but the defiant look in his eye was tempered with a certain doubt as he intercepted Jamie's cold blue gaze. Jamie set the horse's hoof down slowly, just as slowly stood up, and drawing himself to his full height of six feet four, put his hands on his hips, looked down at the Earl, three feet six, and said, very softly, "No.

The phrase "Blessed are those who have not seen but have believed" floated through his head. It was maybe not the believing that was the blessing; it was the not having to look. Seeing, sometimes, was bloody awful.

What if, this time, you fall?

though. It isn't necessarily easier if you know what it is you're meant to do—but at least you don't waste time in questioning or doubting. If you're honest—well, that isn't necessarily easier, either. Though I suppose if you're honest with yourself and know what you are, at least you're less likely to feel that you've wasted your life, doing the wrong thing.

But then, I didn't think I'd tell them you were here." "What makes you think they don't know?" I asked, beginning to feel rather hollow, despite my earlier resolve to brazen it out. I cast a quick glance at the window, but

ran a hand softly down my back. "Mmm. Oh, nothing, really. Just, when I saw that chap outside, it occurred to me he might be"—he hesitated, tightening his hold

mouth worked a little, but he shook his head. "I Ã¢â'¬Â¦ no. Perhaps 

Jamie replied with what I had come to think of as a "Scottish noise," that indeterminate sound made low in the throat that can be interpreted to mean almost anything. This particular noise seemed to indicate some doubt as to the likelihood of such a desirable outcome.

The ninth Earl of Ellesmere had his chin thrust out as far as it would go, but the defiant look in his eye was tempered with a certain doubt as he intercepted Jamie's cold blue gaze. Jamie set the horse's hoof down slowly, just as slowly stood up, and drawing himself to his full height of six feet four, put his hands on his , looked down at the Earl, three feet six, and said, very softly, "No.

admitting a dubious

It may," the deeper voice agreed. "It may rain straight up tomorrow instead of down, as well. That doesna mean I'll stand waiting at the stairhead wi' my wee bucket turned upside down.

his hesitation. "Is it a

I feel like that all the time, Sassenach, he said, his voice a little husky. His fingers curled over mine. When I wake sometimes in the early morning, and I see ye there beside me. I doubt you're real. Until I touch ye-or until ye fart.

I have been in perturbation of mind for days, debating whether I shall write it, and now, having written, whether to send it.

Blessed are those who have not seen, and have believed.' And those who must see, in order to believe?

But the thing is—" He hesitated, then looked at me straight on, hazel-eyed and earnest. "I could do something else, and be as good. Care as much, or as little. I haven't got that absolute conviction that there's something in life I'm meant to do—

You'd think so, wouldn't you?" I said bleakly. "But I don't know, any more than you.

you just said that you suspect my husband of wanting to