Quotes About Doubt

When you start out in the industry and things are tough, and you're not really making money, you question yourself: should I give up?

I was just making movies to make movies. I was so full of anxiety about becoming a filmmaker that I kind of lost the idea of why I was doing it.

As a player I thought all managers were doing something wrong.

It's better to keep one's mouth shut and appear stupid than open it and remove all doubts.

In addition, Master Twinkle seems convinced that someone is denying him a pair of stripey trousers.

Then there you are, then. The day Howl forgets to do that will be the day I believe he's really in love, and not before. Michael to Sophie about wether or not Howl is really in love with Lettie. pg, 170

Everyone always has to have the rational, scientific explanation for something, even if it's so obviously wrong you could scream.

How can I preach Dissolution? he said. How can I not believe in the gods when I have seen them for myself? That's a question you certainly should be asking, Chrestomanci croaked. Go down to Theare and ask it. Thasper nodded and turned to go. Chrestomanci leaned towards him and said from behind his handkerchief, Ask yourself this too: Can the gods catch flu? I think I may have given it to all of them. Find out and let me know, there's a good chap.

You do not seem to me to be a beast. This makes me quite sure that you can't really be a man.

Belief as such always has doubt at the bottom. It's knowing that makes wizardry work. Only knowing can banish doubt.

What should we think of someone who never admits error, never entertains doubt but adheres unflinchingly to the same ideas all his life, regardless of new evidence? Doubt and skepticism are signs of rationality. When we are too certain of our opinions, we run the risk of ignoring any evidence that conflicts with our views. It is doubt that shows we are still thinking, still willing to reexamine hardened beliefs when confronted with new facts and new evidence.

It was sublime—and the sublime is not to be trusted.

Again she missed God. She had shared everything with him. From childhood she had gone to him with every question, doubt, delight, and triumph. He had accompanied every advance in her thinking; in action he had been her daily collaborator. But God was gone. This was something she was going to have to work out by herself.

But perhaps the answer is to stop writing altogether, for when I do write, even now as I write this very sentence, this very word, I am aware of a ghost reader who leans over my shoulder watching my pen, who twists my words and perverts my meaning, and makes me uncomfortable in the privacy of my own thoughts. It is very aggravating to be presented to oneself in a light so different from the familiar one, even when it is clearly a false light. I will not write any more.

Although Mr. Montgomery must have been sixty, he had the unlined face of an infant. After forty years of practicing a poker face in the office, the muscles that twitch and tauten in response to doubt, worry, or suspicion had atrophied to the degree that it was now impossible to read any kind of expression in his face other than a general and permanent bonhomie.

He had given up trying to make her believe only what was true, she had been raised to the kind of religion that could admit no difference between what was true and what was good.

There was no rational explanation for what she had seen. It was unscientific. And Hester knew the world was totally and profoundly scientific. There could be only one explanation. "I must be mad," she whispered. Her pupils dilated and her nostrils quivered. "I have seen a ghost!

her fear of action was overtaken by her fear of inaction.

She had been able to bear not knowing a thing when she could be sure that God knew, but now...

ones. I could see that I would be inevitably eased out, and not by doubt but by concern.

her to me and asked if I

Our real opinion is not one in which we have never wavered, but the one to which we have most regularly returned.

I've never believed in God. But I believe in Picasso.

Prayer's a very tricky business.