Quotes About Complexity

Things were not so simple after all. She could not understand even her own feelings. She saw the most cherished of her convictions put into practice - and her eyes filled with tears. She had won fame and independence and the right to live her own life - and she wanted something different.

Não somos simples, como os nossos amigos gostariam que fôssemos para irmos ao encontro da necessidade que têm de nós. E, no entanto, o amor é simples.

could not decide whether he was the divinest genius or the greatest fool in the world. It

What then? Who then?' she said. 'Thirty-six; in a motor car; a woman. Yes, but a million other things as well.

La lengua inglesa, que puede expresar los pensamientos de Hamlet y la tragedia de Lear, carece de palabras para describir el escalofrío y el dolor de cabeza.

For Love, to which we may now return, has two faces; one white, the other black; two bodies; one smooth, the other hairy. It has two hands, two feet, two tails, two, indeed, of every member and each one is the exact opposite of the other. Yet, so strictly are they joined together that you cannot separate them.

The title women and fiction might mean, and you may have meant it to mean, women and what they are like; or it might mean women and the fiction that they write; or it might mean women and the fiction that is written about them; or it might mean that somehow all three are inextricably mixed together

Tudo parece significar tantas coisas (...)

Tutto quello che in teoria sembrava semplice diventava in pratica immediatamente complesso; come le onde si disegnano in forme simmetriche dall'alto dello scoglio, ma per il nuotatore che si trova in mezzo a loro sono divise da ripidi abissi e creste spumeggianti. Pure, è necessario correre il rischio; tracciare il segno.

I fear, I hate, I love, I envy and despise you […]

As for the beauty of women, it is like the light on the sea, never constant to a single wave. They all have it; they all lose it. Now she is dull and thick as bacon; now transparent as a hanging glass.

My own brain is to me the most unaccountable of machinery - always buzzing, humming, soaring, roaring, diving, and then buried in mud. And why? What's this passion for?

la novela es como una telaraña ligada muy sutilmente, pero al fin y al cabo ligada a la vida por los cuatro costados.

And yet I adore him. I think he's quite crazy, and with no place or occupation in life, and far from happy, and philosophically irresponsible – and there is absolutely nobody like him.

Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita.

Was she really beautiful? Was she at least what they call attractive? She was exasperation, she was torture.

The square root of I is I.

Look at this tangle of thorns.

a person hoping to become a poet must have the capacity of thinking of several things at a time.

Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita.

that is his head, containing a brain of a different brand than that of the synthetic jellies preserved in the skulls around him

She was my darling: difficult, morose - But still my darling.

When I try to analyze my own cravings, motives, actions and so forth, I surrender to a sort of retrospective imagination which feeds the analytic faculty with boundless alternatives and which causes each visualized route to fork and re-fork without end in the maddeningly complex prospect of my past.

He loved her in spite of her unlovableness. Armande had many trying, thought not necessarily rare, traits, all of which he accepted as absurd clues in a clever puzzle.