Quotes About Uncertainty

ÅŸu son haftalar içinde bir deÄŸiÅŸiklik ortaya ç?kt?. ama nerede? hiçbir ÅŸeye baÄŸlan?lmayan soyut bir deÄŸiÅŸme bu. deÄŸiÅŸen ben miyim? ben deÄŸilsem ÅŸu oda, ÅŸu kent, ÅŸu doÄŸa; seçmek gerek. deÄŸiÅŸen benim san?yorum.

It is the reflection of my face. Often in these lost days I study it. I can understand nothing of this face. The faces of others have some sense, some direction. Not Mine.

Yaln?z olmak!' diye ellerini ovuÅŸturarak inliyordu. 'Ak?l dan??acak kimsesi olmamak, doÄŸru yolda m?y?m, deÄŸil miyim bana söyleyecek birisi!' ...

Günler boyu insan kendi kendine sorabilirdi, ben ak?ll? m?y?m, kendimi bir ÅŸey mi san?yorum, diye; asla bir karara var?lamazd?. Bunun yan?nda bir sabah size tak?lan etiketler vard? ve ömür boyu onlar? ta??mak gerekiyordu ...

Il faudrait si peu pour que le disque s'arrête...

Shall I have to go off again, leaving my research, my book and everything else unfinished? Shall I awake in a few months, in a few years, broken, deceived, in the midst of new ruins? I would like to see the truth clearly before it is too late.

Nothing looked real; I felt surrounded by cardboard scenery which could suddenly be removed. The world was waiting, holding its breath, making itself small -

Bu dert öyle belirsiz, öyle metafizik bir ÅŸey ki, utan?yorum doÄŸrusu.

La peur, c'était bon avant, quand nous gardions de l'espoir.

Shall I awake in a few months, a few years, exhausted, disappointed, in the midst of fresh ruins? I should like to understand myself properly before it is too late.

Le teníamos un miedo horrible porque sabíamos que estaba solo.

Instead of countering Plato's argument, or approving it or modifying it, Derrida insists on its instabilities. It is inhabited at every turn by an undecidability that it cannot fully master.

But what could I do? Be stupid for a while? I wasn't sure I knew how, even after so many years of careful observation.

I was filled with dread at the thought my mind had skipped town and left me behind to pay the rent. --Dexter

I rose to my knees, mouth dry and heart pounding, and paused to finger a rip in my beautiful Dacron bowling shirt. I pushed my fingertip through the hole and wiggled it at myself. Hello, Dexter, where are you going? Hello, Mr. Finger. I don't know, but I'm almost there. I hear my friends calling.

We can't always do what we think we have to do. So when there's nothing else you can do, you wait... No matter what... pressure... you might feel.

What, in all very seriousness, the hell was going on?

Perhaps I should call the Guinness Book people. I wondered what the world record was for not being sure whether you committed a string of murders?

We all make rules for ourselves. It's these rules that help define who we are. So when we break those rules, we risk losing ourselves and becoming something unknown. Who is Deb now? Who am I? Is this a new beginning? Or the beginning of the end?

Could this be the Apocalypse?

Oh," I said, and my eyes pop open to the fluorescent light of Deborah's office, and no matter how hard I try to push it away and find a way not to believe it, the things I saw do not change. Even in the harsh and ugly light of the office the picture is the same, and even worse, I now see Deb and Jackie staring at me uncertainly, as if they had been watching me urinate on a busy street. "Oh, um," I say. "It's, you know. I just thought of something.

I floated through the rest of the morning in my cloud of adrenaline and alienation, the whole time feeling as if I might split apart at the seams at any minute. But

Deborah called the dispatcher and said, "I've got the Aldovar girl. I'm taking her home," and Samantha muttered, "Big whoopee-shit." Deborah just glanced at her with something that looked like a rictus but was probably supposed to be a reassuring smile, and then she put the car in gear, and I had a little over half an hour to sit in the backseat and picture my life splintering into a million decorative shards.

This is going to be awesome," Jackie gurgled. Deborah did not appear to agree.