Quotes About Complexity

Marriage: a deeply peculiar and ultimately unkind thing to inflict on anyone one claims to care for.

A woman whom we need and who makes us suffer elicits from us a whole gamut of feelings far more profound and more vital than does a man of genius who interests us.

Women who are to some extent resistant, whom one cannot possess at once, whom one does not even know at first whether one will ever possess, are the only interesting ones.

One could compare a lover's gaze to a barbecue skewer. Within the complexity of our nature, every lover pics up on certain elements and neglects others.

It is difficult to get the news from poems

Everyone is extremely hard and troubled to be around. Everyone has something substantially wrong with them. Everyone is extremely hard to live with. 

On account of its scale and complexity, the world will always outstrip the capacity of any single body to ask fertile questions of it.

That fish taken out of the water several continents away could in a matter of hours be here in a warehouse in Northamptonshire is evidence of nothing short of logistical genius, based on a complex interplay of technology, managerial discipline and legal and economic standardisation.

We allow for complexity, and therefore make accommodations for disagreement and its patient resolution, in most of the big areas of life: international trade, immigration, oncology . . . But when it comes to domestic existence, we tend to make a fateful presumption of ease, which in turn inspires in us a tense aversion to protracted negotiation. We would think it peculiar indeed to devote a two-day

One would never imagine that a good pot or shoe could result from intuition alone; why then assume that the more complex task of directing one's life could be undertaken without any sustained reflection on premises or goals?

It is common to assume that we are dealing with a highly intelligent book when we cease to understand it.

When today's executives regard programming the same as manufacturing, they imagine that reducing the cost of programming is similarly simple and effective. Unfortunately, those rules don't apply anymore.

One of my colleagues in the cellular-telephone business was complaining about how the engineers had made cell phones hard to use by packing in so many rarely used features. She said that cell phones were wet dogs. When I inquired about her metaphor, she explained, You have to really love a wet dog a lot to want to carry it around.

Design Is a Big Word

Start seeing the world for what it really is—dirty, rough, tragic, and beautiful. It is truly a wonderful mess.

But of course he had never done more than hug Toby and kiss him on the cheek; he had twice had a peep at his penis at a college urinal. Here, in a tiny flat in unknown Willesden, he was talking to the mother of the man who called him not only a 'damn good fuck' but also a 'hot little cocksucker' with 'a first-class degree in arse-licking'. Which clearly was way beyond hugging and peeping. Nick gazed at her in a trance of revelation and gratitude. And

and a thousand other stories waiting to unfold, dependent on the births of children, the movement of people in the streets, the songs of birds at certain moments, the precise position of chairs, the wind.

Decision making is such a delicate and complex mental process. If causality is only approximate, we don't know where the tipping point lies, where the decision is so fragile that it appears without definite cause.

Real life is messy, inconsistent, and it's seldom when anything ever really gets resolved. It's taken me a long time to realize that.

Nothing's that simple, not even things that are simply awful.

As I come to understand Vietnam and what it implies about the human condition, I also realize that few humans will permit themselves such an understanding.

I believe he's a man of great integrity, but he seems to see the world in very black and white. Manichean terms. I personally believe that to be an intellectual limitation.

One colour. One word. So many shades. The color of african skin, of shadow on snow, of a jay's throat, the color of saxophones at dusk, of orbiting police lights smeared across tenement windows, of a flame's intestines, of the faint tracery of veins visible beneath the ghost-flesh of her forearm's underside, of loneliness, of melancholy. The blues.

in life there were times when the entirely inappropriate was the only appropriate response. Perhaps