Quotes About Complexity

In Pauline and Mal's house, nothing was simple. In her parents' house, things had been good or bad, right or wrong, useful or wasteful. There had been nothing in between. Here, she found, everything had nuance; everything had an unrevealed side or unexplored depths. Everything was worth looking at more closely.

By tomorrow Marilyn would forget this moment: Lydia's shout, the shattered edges in her tone. It would disappear forever from her memory of Lydia, the way memories of a lost loved one always smooth and simplify themselves, shedding complexity like scales.

All their lives Nath had understood, better than anyone, the lexicon of their family, the things they could never truly explain to outsiders: that a book or a dress meant more than something to read or something to wear; that attention came with expectations that—like snow—drifted and settled and crushed you with their weight.

But the problem with rules, he reflected, was that they implied a right way and a wrong way to do things. When, in fact, most of the time there were simply ways, none of them quite wrong or quite right, and nothing to tell you for sure which side of the line you stood on. He

Here, she found, everything had nuance; everything had an unrevealed side or unexplored depths.

the problem with rules, he reflected, was that they implied a right way and a wrong way to do things. When, in fact, most of the time there were simply ways, none of them quite wrong or quite right, and nothing to tell you for sure which side of the line you stood on.

they implied a right way and a wrong way to do things. When, in fact, most of the time there were simply ways, none of them quite wrong or quite right, and nothing to tell you for sure which side of the line you stood on.

I'm not saying there aren't bad mothers, she says. Just that you don't always know. What makes them do something, or not do something. Most of us, we're trying our best.

When she spoke of Pauline Hawthorne, her tone was half the adoration of a schoolgirl for a crush, half the adoration of a devotee for a saint. It had not been clear, at first, that it would turn out that way.

A small tug at a complicated knot that would take generations to unpick.

In her parents' house, things had been good or bad, right or wrong, useful or wasteful. There had been nothing in between. Here, she found, everything had nuance; everything had an unrevealed side or unexplored depths. Everything was worth looking at more closely.

You weren't wrong, Margaret said at last. You weren't wrong. But neither was Marie. A small tug at a complicated knot that would take generations to unpick.

Na casa de Pauline e Mal, nada era simples. Na casa dos pais de Mia, as coisas eram boas ou ruins, certas ou erradas, úteis ou desnecessárias. Não havia meio-termo. Ali ela descobriu que tudo tinha nuance, um lado não revelado ou profundidades inexploradas. Tudo merecia ser analisado com mais atenção.

Mas o problema das regras (...) era que subentendiam um jeito errado e um jeito certo de fazer as coisas, quando, na verdade, na maior parte do tempo havia apenas jeitos, sendo que nenhum deles era exatamente certo ou errado e nada podia indicar com certeza de que lado da linha você estava.

the past you remembered and the future you longed for all existed at once. You could see it every time you looked at her: layered in her face was the baby she'd been and the child she'd become and the adult she would grow up to be, and you saw them all simultaneously, like a 3-D image. It

She tried to reconcile what Lexie was saying with the Lexie she knew. Lexie wanted an abortion? Baby-crazy Lexie, quick-to-judge-others Lexie, Lexie who'd been so unforgiving about Bebe's mistakes?

Don't remember me as too nice or beautiful or funny, because then you'll be disappointed.

The whole of the argument of the advocate of the wider teleology is that God wanted the higher type. But if that is so why did he not produce it at once? What useful purpose could be served by producing at the end of a lengthy and murderous process what might just as well have been secured at the beginning?

The religion of the Indian is the last thing about him that the man of another race will ever understand. First, the Indian does not speak of these deep matters so long as he believes in them, and when he has ceased to believe he speaks inaccurately and slightingly. Second,

Complex problems do not demand complex solutions.

The act of love strongly resembles torture or surgery.

A woman is natural: that is to say, abominable.

When all the details fit in perfectly, something is probably wrong with the story.

I see. Tell me, monsieur, do you like a challenge? To solve a unique problem?" "Yes, indeed, I love to come up with a solution for any architectural problem," said Lucien, "and the more challenging, the better." He