Quotes About Uncertainty

An den Scheidewegen des Lebens stehen keine Wegweiser.

Nothing is permanent in this wicked world, not even our troubles.

Ed held his sword tight in both hands and went slowly and carefully down. There was the unmistakable smell of sicko down here and Ed's throat was very dry.

And then it was like he had been punched hard in the chest. He wasn't running anymore. He looked down. there was a silver bolt sticking out of him.no, that couldn't be. He couldn't have shot himself. He tried to augh, but it hurt to much. What was gong on? He had fallen. He was sitting down, his legs out in front of him. dead grown-ups lay all around him. Nothing moved. he couldn't breathe. His lungs were full of liquid. He looked up. The sky was flickering.

If I saw something once that I can't explain, that doesn't make them real. And if a trick of the dark gave me a chill, that doesn't make them real. And if a madman says what's at the core of us all is a senseless, flapping quiver of black shade, that's just one more reason not to believe.

It's a puzzler, and I don't want to sound full of myself, but I may just be the Vyrus messiah." He shakes his head. "I don't know for sure. Have to meditate on that shit some more. Anyhoo.

I really don't have any solutions and I don't like movies that do.

Writing is a journey into the unknown.

We're all hurtling towards death. Yet here we are, for the moment, alive. Each of us knowing we're going to die. Each of us secretly believing we won't.

Sometimes I lie awake at night, and I ask, 'Where have I gone wrong'. Then a voice says to me, 'This is going to take more than one night.

And then my mind made its first earnest effort to comprehend what had been infused into it concerning heaven and hell: and for the first it recoiled baffled; and for the first time glancing behind, on each side, and before it, it saw all round an unfathomed gulf: it felt the one point where it stood the present; all the rest was formless cloud and vacant depth: and it shuddered at the thought of tottering, and plunging amid that chaos.

She returned to her mantra: something would happen, something would turn up, it always had before, it would again.

Life's short. Anything could happen, and it usually does, so there's no point in sitting around thinking about all the ifs, ands and buts.

Hesitating, at the threshold of various illusory paths of life, I considered them one by one, without daring to pursue any one of them.

Gretchen's eyes blazed at Henry. 'Don't ever think you can know what I'll do

The Bermuda Triangle coughs up myths like a consumptive asthmatic. Missing vessels are blamed on aliens. Atlantis. Time rifts. Ghost ships. Magnetic anomalies. Methane eruptions. People go mad. People lose their minds. Sometimes I think I've been in the Bermuda Triangle my whole life.

Whatever you think this is going to be like," she whispers, "it's going to be worse.

How beautiful a thing is youth Which flees us in every way. Whoever desires to be merry, let him; For tomorrow is never certain. —Laurenzo de' Medici

The world is full of things we can't control. All we can do is keep trying, keep working.

There was nothing I could do but squirm faster and try to trust Adrian, who was surely one of the most competent mere mortals I'd met in years. He had a (small, girlie) gun, he had his wits, and he had … I don't know. Maybe a silver bikini under his commando-wear, for all I knew.

I like to pretend that I'm covering my tracks, bracing for any contingency. Ready for the worst, and all that jazz. I always feel better if there's a plan in place. And in this case, the plan was, "Leave the blind guy in charge of the juvenile delinquents and everything will be just fine. Probably.

I was a terrible believer in things,but I was also a terrible nonbeliever in things. I was as searching as I was skeptical. I didn't know where to put my faith,or if there was such a place,or even what the word faith meant, in all of it's complexity. Everything seemed to be possibly potent and possibly fake.

It's hard to go. It's scary and lonely…and half the time you'll be wondering why the hell you're in Cincinnati or Austin or North Dakota or Mongolia or wherever your melodious little finger-plucking heinie takes you. There will be boondoggles and discombobulated days, freaked-out nights and metaphorical flat tires. But it will be soul-smashingly beautiful… It will open up your life.

I was a terrible believer in things, but I was also a terrible nonbelieer in things. I was as searching as I was skeptical. I didn't know where to put my faith, or if there was such a place, or even precisely what the word faith meant, in all of its complexity. Everything seemed to be possibly potent and possibly fake.