Quotes About Uncertainty

you are not dead, but you are not alive.

I feel like any minute a guy in a lavender suit will burst into the room with a microphone and bellow, Another alternate-reality moment brought to you by Adolescence!

slowly I can't stand this bled into I can't stay here trickled through I should leave swelled into I want to leave rose into a tidal wave of I'm going

You're not dead, but you're not alive, either. You're a wintergirl, Lia-Lia, caught in between the worlds.

I am on top of the highest mountain. The icy ground is shaking, an earthquake, the world beneath me opening up with fire, steel arms ready to pull me down. I have to move. I can't stay here anymore. I throw myself down the mountain and open my mouth.

I don't know anything. My trees suck.

You're not dead, but you're not alive, either. You're a winter girl

Ik kan er niet mee ophouden, maar ik kan er ook niet mee doorgaan.

You might not hear back from your mother for a while, though. The post has become most unreliable.

Some people grow up knowing what they want to do; they color inside the lines, study at the right school, check off the boxes, and in the end they are handed the grown-up life they've dreamed of. That's mostly bullshit, for the record. Trying to figure out what you want to do, who you want to be, is messy as hell; the best anyone can hope for is to figure out the next step.

Youth does not inspire confidence, in life or in stories

Those are moments of grace. Uncertainty is removed. Mind, heart, and body fuse together, and decisions are made without pause for reflection.

one might say that my entire life has been a wager against chance—

Is that what I am? I don't know what the hell I am anymore. Oh, bullshit. You're a guy, a human being. Just another poor son of a bitch who doesn't want to be alone when the sacred ginmill closes.

Life, I announced, is not a B picture. Well, it ain't no De Mille epic either, boss. Things'll work out, Bernie.

They've transformed the weather into some sort of celestial crap game.

Tomorrow's always there, just over the horizon. Until the tomorrows run out.

There is nothing stranger than to love somebody who is mad, or who is intermittently so. The weight, the strain, the anxiety is a heavy load to bear – if only because among these confusional states and hysterias loom dreadful probabilities like suicide or murder. It shakes one's hold also on one's own grasp of reality; one realises how precariously we manage

Youth is the age of despairs.

For years one has to put up with the feeling that people do not care, really care, about one; then one day with growing alarm, one realizes that it is God who does not care; and not merely that he does not care, he does not care one way or the other.

This weird translation of feelings into gestures which belied words and words which belied gestures, confused and disoriented her. She needed someone to tell her whether to laugh or to cry.

Death and life are both simply the hazards of a chance which cannot be averted

Is That All There Is?

As much as I feel sad, I think that not knowing is what really bothers me.