Quotes About Uncertainty

I had nothing to offer anyone except my own confusion.

Non lo so, non importa e non fa nessuna differenza.

What are you going to do with yourself, Ed? I asked. I don't know, he said. I just go along. I dig life. He repeated it, following Dean's line. He had no direction. He sat reminiscing about that night in Chicago and the hot coffee cakes in the lonely room.

If you keep this up you'll both go crazy, but let me know what happens as you go along.

Whoo, Frisco nights, the end of the continent and the end of doubt, all dull doubt and tomfoolery, good-by

I dunno, maybe you're Goat.

I have nothing to offer anybody expect my own confusion.

now began to see they were going to stick and I was going to be left alone on my butt at the other end of the continent. But why think about that when all the golden land's ahead of you and all kinds of unforeseen events wait lurking to surprise you and make you glad you're alive to see?

I woke up as the sun was reddening; and that was the one distinct time in my life, the strangest moment of all, when I didn't know who I was—I was far away from home, haunted and tired with travel, in a cheap hotel room I'd never seen, hearing the hiss of steam outside, and the creak of the old wood of the hotel, and footsteps upstairs, and all the sad sounds, and I looked at the cracked high ceiling and really didn't know who I was for about fifteen strange seconds.

Everything'll be all right tomorrow, don't you think, Sal-honey, man? Sure, baby, manana.  It was always manana

Well, now you know me. You know I don't have close relationships with anybody any more - I don't know what to do with these things. I hold things in my hand like pieces of crap and don't know where to put it down.

It was sad to see his tall figure receding in the dark as we drove away, just like the other figures in New York and New Orleans: they stand uncertainly underneath immense skies, and everything about them is drowned. Where go? what do? what for?—sleep. But this foolish gang was bending onward.

He was very lonely, he wanted to get back to New York. It was sad to see his tall figure receding in the dark as we drove away, just like the other figures in New York and New Orleans: they stand uncertainly underneath immense skies, and everything about them is drowned. Where go? what do? what for?—sleep. But this foolish gang was bending onward.

Así es la noche, y eso produce. No puedo ofrecer más que mi propia confusión.

She was eighteen and most lovely, and lost. Chapter 11

We didn't know what to expect. Where will he sleep? What's he going to eat? Are there any girls for him? It was like the imminent arrival of Gargantua; preparations had to be made to widen the gutters of Denver and foreshorten certain laws to fit his suffering bulk and bursting exstasies.

They didn't know that a bomb had come that could crack all our bridges and roads and reduce them to jumbles, and we would be as poor as they someday, and stretching out our hands in the same, same way.

and I looked at the cracked high ceiling and really didn't know who I was for about fifteen strange seconds. I wasn't scared; I was just somebody else, some stranger, and my whole life was a haunted life, the life of a ghost.

Someone once said to me that if you want to make God laugh, just tell him your plans. Just tell him who you are.

He was a good man and a kind man but he never knew what he wanted. I think that eventually it killed him.

Perhaps the greatest charm of tramp-life is the absence of monotony. In Hobo Land the face of life is protean—an ever changing phantasmagoria, where the impossible happens and the unexpected jumps out of the bushes at every turn of the road. The hobo never knows what is going to happen the next moment; hence, he lives only in the present moment. He has learned the futility of telic endeavor, and knows the delight of drifting along with the whimsicalities of Chance

Every week, there's a different twist and turn you're not going to see coming, and how you handle that is important.

The jellyfish doesn't actively move anywhere - it's just moved with the tides. Is that what man is? Man's just the jellyfish: stuff happens to you, and you get twisted in different directions.

Going by my past journey, I am not certain where life will take me, what turns and twists will happen; nobody knows where they will end up. As life changes direction, I'll flow with it.