Quotes About Uncertainty

I had the impression it wasn't night and it wasn't day, but some lurid third interval that had suddenly slipped between them and would never end.

Cómo podría yo saber si algún día en la universidad, en Europa, en algún lugar, en cualquier lugar, la campana de cristal con sus asfixiantes distorsiones, no volvería a descender?

From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, ... I wanted each and everyone of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.

How did I know that someday—at college, in Europe, somewhere, anywhere—the bell jar, with its stifling distortions, wouldn't descend again?

Félek. Hogy mirÅ'l? Leginkább a meg nem élt élettÅ'l. Mi számít?

The one thing I was good at was winning scholarships and prizes, and that era was coming to the end. I felt like a racehorse in a world without racetracks or a champion college footballer suddenly confronted by Wall Street and a business suit, his days of glory shrunk to a little gold cup on his mantel with a date engraved on it like the date on a tombstone. I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story.

Where are you going?' I was about to say, 'Back to the asylum', but the man looked promising, so I changed my mind.

I saw the days of the year stretching ahead like a series of bright, white boxes, and separating one box from another was sleep, like a black shade. Only for me, the long perspective of shades that set off one box from the next had suddenly snapped up, and I could see day after day after day glaring ahead of me like a white, broad infinitely desolate avenue.

I do not know who I am, where I am going - and I am the one who has to decide the answers to these hideous questions

What did I think was wrong? That made it sound as if nothing was really wrong, I only thought it was wrong.

I get a little frightened when I think of life slipping through my fingers like water…

The only thing I was good at was winning scholarships and prizes, and that era was coming to an end

I wish I knew what to do with my life, what to do with my heart…

I fought and fought to free myself as from the weight of a name that could be a baby or could be a malignant tumor; I knew not. I only feared.

We are not what we might be; what we are Outlaws all extrapolation Beyond the interval of now and here: White whales are gone with the white ocean.

I am still so naïve; I know pretty much what I like and dislike; but please, don't ask me who I am. A passionate, fragmentary girl, maybe?

Because we are creatures of habit, we need to practice acting in spite of fear, in spite of doubt, in spite of worry, in spite of uncertainty, in spite of inconvenience, in spite of discomfort, and even to practice acting when we're not in the mood to act.

Take fear, for instance. During my seminars I ask the audience, "How many of you would cite fear as your primary motivation for success?" Not many people put up their hand. However, then I ask, "How many of you would cite security as one of your main motivators for success?" Almost everyone puts up his or her hand. But get this—security and fear are both motivated by the same thing. Seeking security comes from insecurity, which is based in fear.

La moraleja es simple: échate al ruedo. Nunca sabes por dónde saldrá el toro.

Seeking security comes from insecurity, which is based in fear.

we often avoid daily practice not out of laziness, or lack of discipline, but because we know that profound changes will occur in our lives and we are not sure we are up to shouldering what feels like the burden of the unknown. Something inside of us fears the loss of normalcy and the familiar.

A heap of broken images, where the sun beats, And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief, And the dry stone no sound of water. Only There is shadow under this red rock, (Come in under the shadow of this red rock), And I will show you something different from either Your shadow at morning striding behind you Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you; I will show you fear in a handful of dust.

My nerves are bad to-night. Yes, bad. Stay with me. 'Speak to me. Why do you never speak? Speak. 'What are you thinking of? What thinking? What? 'I never know what you are thinking. Think.

We ask only to be reassured About the noises in the cellar And the window that should not have been open