Quotes About Complexity

I felt something for her once. Not tenderness. Not love. But a shared delusion that expresses itself in violence is almost more intimate than love.

I'm not prepared to say I love her. But I am willing to admit to myself that it's more than curiosity, more than liking, more than the kind of one-night-stand lust that you get over in the morning. There are moments when it feels like I've always known her. And then, like tonight, there are moments when I feel like I don't know her at all. Like she's a mystery I'll never solve, wrapped in barbed wire and thorns and roses.

The complexity embedded in the different levels of meaning that go along with the words I love you ought to be a whole mindfuck of a video game

Males are the most incomprehensible species.

I mean, what if love isn't a yes-or-no question? It's not either you're in love or you're not. I mean, aren't these different levels? And maybe these things, like words and expectations and whatever, don't go on top of the love. Maybe it's like a map, and they have all their own place, and when you see it from the sky - whoa.

It's a paradox, isn't it? The people you know the most, the people you love the most-you're also going to feel the parts of them you don't know the most

I mean, what if love isn't a yes-or-no question? It's not either you're in love or you're not. I mean, aren't there different levels? And maybe these things, like words and expectations and whatever, don't go on top of the love. Maybe it's like a map, and they all have their own place, and then when you see it from the sky--whoa.

Because I don't want to," I said. "Not because of the way she is now—I know that's not what she's like. There was no way it was going to be as easy as the notebook. I get that now.

I feel like I know her. Really know her. And part of really knowing her is also knowing that I don't necessarily know her as well as I think I do. Which is okay. We should each have our own damn souls.

Falling in love should be the easiest thing in the world, but it's not.

Don't you love your mother, dear? I guess so. A hard, sharp, thorny kind of love that might be pity more than anything else.

When balancing a bottle of nitroglycerin on the point of a sword, never complicate the task by trying to tap dance.

But that is the way of the world: sadness and delight, anger and forbearance, hatred and love—all woven together in every inch of the tapestry.

strange order always underlies the appearance of chaos.

Sudden falls can come to societies that know too little history or that have furnished their minds with easy one-note propaganda in place of the true complexity and terrible beauty of the storied past.

Every human cell, with its thousands of protein chains, is more complex than a 747 or the largest cruise ship, in fact more complex than the two combined. All life on Earth, in its extravagant variety, offers itself for study, but though we probe to ever deeper layers of its structure, the meaning eludes us.

I'm a bad case of arrested development, stuck in early adolescence, more screwed-up-twisted-up-tangled-up than a couple earthworms makin' babies.

an age-old patter that seemed like chaos but was not...

This man on sixteen people's directories was named Alexander Gordius. To anyone lacking Woody's unique mind, the name would have looked like just another in a long list. But, to him, it seemed unlikely that someone would be named for both the creator of the Gordian knot and the man who solved it with a sword. To him it looked like a potential false identity.

Life can sometimes seem hopelessly complex, unpredictable, chaotic. Then a strange order makes itself known.

even as foolish as Walsh seems, she is moved by a vulnerability that underlies his pomposity.

In this brave new world, there is no place for a lone paladin venturing forth on tasks of knightly honor. Both Galahad and Shane would be toast. In times as complex as these, any caped crusader must work sans cape, but with backup that amounts to scores of specialists.

You're a scary woman, the way you know a man's mind.

At times he could be charming and gracious, which was what had made it so hard to leave him. His ability to be tender and loving was equal to his capacity to be deceptive and underhanded. He could rip out my heart and then be the first one to pick it up and hand it back to me.