Quotes About Uncertainty

Don't ask me those questions! Don't ask me what life means or how we know reality or why we have to suffer so much. Don't talk about how nothing feels real, how everything is coated with gelatin and shining like oil in the sun. I don't want to hear about the tiger in the corner or the Angel of Death or the phone calls from John the Baptist.

But the fact that I couldn't hold my job was worrisome. I was probably crazy. I'd been skirting the idea of craziness for a year or two, now I was closing in on it. Pull yourself together! I told myself. Stop indulging yourself. There's nothing wrong with you. You're just wayward.

I got better and Daisy didn't and I can't explain why. Maybe I was just flirting with madness the way I flirted with my teachers and my classmates. I wasn't convinced I was crazy, though I feared I was. Some people say that having any conscious opinion on the matter is a mark of sanity, but I'm not sure that's true.

I'm Ambivalent. In fact that's my new favorite word. Do you know what it means ? I don't care.

Once you've posed that question, it won't go away. I think many people kill themselves simply to stop the debate about whether they will or they won't. Anything I thought or did was immediately drawn into the debate. Made a stupid remark -- why not kill myself? Missed the bus -- better put an end to it all. Even the good got in there. I liked that movie -- maybe I shouldn't kill myself.

I can't come up with reassuring answers to the terrible questions they raise. Don't ask me those questions! Don't ask me what life means or how nothing feels real, how everything is coated with gelatin and shining like oil in the sun.

How could I say for certain that I wasn't, if I couldn't say for certain that a curtain wasn't a mountain range.

The girl at her music sits in another sort of light, the fitful, overcast light of life, by which we see ourselves and others only imperfectly, and seldom.

Sai qual è un errore che si fa sempre? Quello di credere che la vita sia immutabile, che una volta preso un binario lo si debba percorrere fino in fondo. Il destino invece ha molta più fantasia di noi. Proprio quando credi di trovarti in una situazione senza via di scampo, quando raggiungi il picco di disperazione massima, con la velocità di una raffica di vento tutto cambia, si stravolge, e da un momento all'altro ti trovi a vivere una nuova vita.

Existe algo más terrible que un retorno que no logra llevarse a cabo?

And as you walk yr road, as you live yr life, RELISH THE ROAD. And relish the fact that the road of yr life will probably be a windy road.

He sported this style in the early war years. Years of uncertainty. When he didn't know if the war was right when it could be said he didn't always know which side he was on not because he was a stupid man but because it was sometimes not 2 different sides at all but one great side surging toward something beyond either Northern or Southern.

Her brows furrowed. "Where in the world were you? Is something amiss? Something more, I mean?" "Nae for me. For ye, well, it could be. I meant to wait until ye had yer life free from Vale, until ye had choices, real choices, in front of ye again. But I love ye, and I have for some time now. If I dunnae tell ye how I feel right now, then I'm liable to shout it out loud the next time I set eyes on ye.

I used to loathe ambivalence; now I adore it. Ambivalence is my new best friend.

It'll be okay. She didn't know if it would be okay or not. She somehow doubted it, but what else was there to say?

I get them—especially Girindra's, since he mails them from Jamespur—their words are usually six to eight weeks old. While I read their words, I can't even know for sure that the writers are still alive.

There's not a psychic in the world, including me, who's 100 percent accurate.

I'm still not sure I didn't hallucinate the conversation while overdosing on his pheromones.

Qué haría yo sin ti? —Eso nunca lo sabrás.

Why?" He frowned. "You know there's no one else for either of us. What are you waiting for?

I loved him too much. I was constantly worried that I wouldn't be able to hold on to him. He was lightning in a bottle, a dream I tried to hold in my hands.

Echaba a correr cuando las cosas se ponían feas porque estaba segura de que todo iba a terminar mal. Lo único que yo podía controlar era ser yo la que se fuera en lugar de ser la que se quedaba atrás.

I was unsettled at the thought of going the entire weekend without him. Worse, I hated the thought of him spending that amount of time away from me. He had a world of choices and possibilities out there, women who weren't so screwed up and difficult to be with.

Will you miss me?" "I hope not," he muttered, feeling surly for no reason he could recognize. "I shall miss you." Alert, he studied her. "You will?" "No. It seemed like the thing to say.