Quotes About Uncertainty

Today he failed to change the world. As for tomorrow, who can tell?

It's kind of like religion. It gives us comfort to believe we have defined something that is, by its very nature, indefinable. As to whether or not we've gotten it right, well, it's all a matter of faith.

We are, however, creatures of containment. We want all things in life packed into boxes that we can label. But just because we have the ability to label it, doesn't mean we really know what's in the box. It's kind of religion. It gives us comfort to believe we have defined something that is, by its very nature, indefinable. As to whether or not we've gotten it right, well, it's all a matter of faith.

No one knows wether you're a monster or a hero. Is there a third choice?

Today you're in a hospital. Or at least this morning. This hour. This minute. Where you'll be three minutes from now is anyone's guess. You've begun to notice, though, that, bit by bit the sense of being outside yourself has diminished with each passing day. A critical mass is reached, and now your soul collapses in upon itself. You're back inside the vessel of your body. Just one. Just you. Just an individual. Me.

Then his eyes glazed over for a second. 'I go places sometimes,' he told me, his voice as thready as his eyes. 'Don't know why I go places... I just do.

Maybe it's the best answer of all. If more people could admit they really don't know, maybe there never would have been a Heartland War.

He's a conundrum- and there's still a piece missing from the puzzle. Whatever that piece was, there was a part of me telling me not to get involved- that it was too much to handle. That you shouldn't go out on a limb unless you're absolutely sure the limb can support your weight.

Did you ever get the feeling that everything was too perfect? Like the moment was so good that something had to be wrong? Kind of like the way a fish sees that bright, shiny lure just before it chomps down and gets hauled out of water to become someone's lunch.

Even though Connor can't see Hayden's face, he can hear the truth of it in his voice. There was no hint of evasion in Hayden's words. This was raw-honesty, void of Hayden's usual flip attitude. It was perhaps the first truly honest thing Connor had ever heard him say. Yes, it is an answer, Connor says. Maybe it's the best answer of all. If more people could admit they really don't know, maybe there never would have been a Heartland War.

I'm leaping off a cliff only to discover I can fly... and then realizing there's nowhere to land. Ever. That's what's going on.

This game could last for days if I keep going unconscious. Or it could be over very quickly. Lev takes a deep breath and tries not to show any more fear than he has to. Sounds exciting. I'm in.

when something drastic happens, there's a lag time. It's not quite denial, and not quite shock, but more like a mental free fall.

Morrison kept looking to everyone else, probably hoping someone would provide him with an opinion, because he wasn't ready to have one of his own.

There's no telling how far down it goes," the captain says, the left side of his mustache twitching like the tail of a rat. "Fall into that unknowable abyss, and you'll be counting the days before you reach bottom.

everything can—and will—change in an instant. People, truths, whole realities. The trick is deciding if a certain change is good, or bad, or some other thing we don't yet have words for.

It was easier to deal with Tennyson when he was fighting me; but having him on my side was frightening, because now I didn't know who the enemy was.

What's that expression? The devil you know is better than the one you don't?

The stars will go dark and the universe will end before I get this year back. That is the weight chained to my ankle, and it is far heavier than any anchor. That is the overwhelming never that I must face. And I still don't know if I'll disappear into it, or find a way to push beyond.

No matter how smart we think we are, we simply can't know all there is to now-and if you spend all your time thinking about those things, it will drive you crazy.

Do I get paid, too?' 'Yes,' he said without hesitation. This scared me, because Crawley gave money like bulls gave milk: not at all, and you get gored for asking. If he had already decided this was a paying job, it must be horrible beyond words.

He has no choice but to believe, because losing the hope of having hope would be unimaginable.

My artwork isn't evolving, it's deconstructing, and I don't know why.

Maybe it's the best answer of all. If more people could admit they really don't know, maybe there never would have been a War.