Quotes About Complexity

Well you are a piece of work aren't you?

It's more complicated than that. I know them. They're not evil or cruel. They're not even smart. Hurting them, it's like hurting children.

dudo que se imaginen nuestro plan, ya que ni nosotros mismos lo entendemos bien.

I can't argue that Finnick isn't one of the most stunning, sensuous people on the planet. But I can honestly say he's never been attractive to me. Maybe he's too pretty, or maybe he's too easy to get, or maybe it's really that he'd just be too easy to lose.

Beetee's glad we find the plan hard to follow, because then our enemies will, too. Like your electricity trap in the arena? I ask. Exactly. And see how well that worked out? says Beetee. Well...not really, I think.

There had been times when I didn't honestly know how I felt about him. I still don't, really.

the more I come to know these people, the worse it is. Because, on the whole, I don't hate them. And some I like. And a lot of them are so damaged that my natural instinct would be to protect them. But

When I do, it's almost too mortifying to admit. All those months of taking it for granted that Peeta thought I was wonderful are over. Finally, he can see me for who I really am. Violent. Distrustful. Manipulative. Deadly. And I hate him for it.

I feel incendiary, a wildfire. My spirit licks at the gates of a very elaborate, customized, and distracting emotional Hades.

Then they took us to the birthing suite, which I call the electronic bullshit room because it's full of all sorts of electronic bullshit we can't fathom but are just glad to have on principle.

I no longer blame Thing Woman or myself quite so much for N´s leaving us. I look at him sometimes for an unguarded moment and see a tall, crooked man with yellowing teeth and a leer. I see new N. Bad N. Vulnerable to anyone with a vagina. I also see Good N, just a glimpse, here and there. And Noncommittal N, an extra in his own life, just hitting his marks and looking well pressed. He´s become a whole group of people, a cache of ghosts tugging at my sleeve. Good N was phenomenal.

A complicated life is an interesting life.

I can love you and be pissed at the same time. They're not mutually exclusive.

What do you think of all this? Am I a friend or foe - or a little of each? Are the important things black and white, or maybe a little gray?

stories in this book represent only the tip of the iceberg.

I hate labels; the problem is that if you say you're one thing, it's hard for people to imagine you as something else. Music is way more complicated than that.

One of the reasons I love horror so much is - when it's done well - you can keep peeling away the layers and see something new every time.

For each other, at each other: Sisters can be either or both. The same could be said of people in any close relationship. Yet there is something special about sisters - specially gratifying and specially fraught.

A lot of the lyrical ideas do have a lot of meaning in a way, although it is somewhat abstracted.

There's an intelligent redneck in all of us somewhere.

Reality is not always dark or positive. It is somewhere in-between.

To play someone when the character masks their own emotions, doesn't understand their own emotions, has no release for their own emotions, and yet is full of emotion - that is a much harder character to play than someone who has somewhere to put it.

To read a character I'm not sympathizing with is generally quite a good, attractive proposition because I've got somewhere to go, I've got work to do, to try to understand why they behave like they behave, to relate entirely and understand them and to be completely emotionally connected. That is much more fun 99 percent of the time.

No nation has a single history, no people a single song.