Best 923 quotes in «chaos quotes» category

We are chasing happiness, and don't care about happiness of people who matter. Probably, we got our priorities right, but failed to set an order. We created a chaos hoping the world would fall in place itself..

We are born. We die. Somewhere in between we live. And how we live is up to us. That’s it.

We are punctual, a stressed, marked characteristic. We need order around us, in the house, in the life, although we live by irresistible impulses, as if the order in the closets, in our papers, in our books, in our photographs, in our souvenirs, in our clothes could preserve us from chaos in our feelings, loves, in our work. Indifference to food, sobriety; but this, we admit, is the part of the war against a threatening fragility.

We are told 'no', we're unimportant, we're peripheral. 'Get a degree, get a job, get a this, get a that.' And then you're a player, you don't want to even play in that game. You want to reclaim your mind and get it out of the hands of the cultural engineers who want to turn you into a half-baked moron consuming all this trash that's being manufactured out of the bones of a dying world.” -

We could not be fulfilled if we weren't inauthentic some of the time—inauthentic, that is, in relation to such things as our passing desires to throttle our children, poison our spouse, or end our marriage over a dispute about changing a lightbulb.

We deal with so many nightmares on a regular basis. When I’m watching a horror movie, there’s a pattern, a sense of control in them. I’m just an observer, not having to deal with any of the repercussions. It’s a nice dream to think monsters play by the rules, that they’ve got a pattern you can unlock and follow. Real life’s messy, and the chaos leaves you devastated in the wake.

We have a predator that came from the depths of the cosmos and took over the rule of our lives. Human beings are its prisoners. The Predator is our lord and master. It has rendered us docile, helpless. If we want to protest, it suppresses our protest. If we want to act independently, it demands that we don't do so... I have been beating around the bush all this time, insinuating to you that something is holding us prisoner. Indeed we are held prisoner! "This was an energetic fact for the sorcerers of ancient Mexico ... They took us over because we are food for them, and they squeeze us mercilessly because we are their sustenance. just as we rear chickens in chicken coops, the predators rear us in human coops, humaneros. Therefore, their food is always available to them." "No, no, no, no," [Carlos replies] "This is absurd don Juan. What you're saying is something monstrous. It simply can't be true, for sorcerers or for average men, or for anyone." "Why not?" don Juan asked calmly. "Why not? Because it infuriates you? ... You haven't heard all the claims yet. I want to appeal to your analytical mind. Think for a moment, and tell me how you would explain the contradictions between the intelligence of man the engineer and the stupidity of his systems of beliefs, or the stupidity of his contradictory behaviour. Sorcerers believe that the predators have given us our systems of belief, our ideas of good and evil, our social mores. They are the ones who set up our hopes and expectations and dreams of success or failure. They have given us covetousness, greed, and cowardice. It is the predators who make us complacent, routinary, and egomaniacal." "'But how can they do this, don Juan? [Carlos] asked, somehow angered further by what [don Juan] was saying. "'Do they whisper all that in our ears while we are asleep?" "'No, they don't do it that way. That's idiotic!" don Juan said, smiling. "They are infinitely more efficient and organized than that. In order to keep us obedient and meek and weak, the predators engaged themselves in a stupendous manoeuvre stupendous, of course, from the point of view of a fighting strategist. A horrendous manoeuvre from the point of view of those who suffer it. They gave us their mind! Do you hear me? The predators give us their mind, which becomes our mind. The predators' mind is baroque, contradictory, morose, filled with the fear of being discovered any minute now." "I know that even though you have never suffered hunger... you have food anxiety, which is none other than the anxiety of the predator who fears that any moment now its manoeuvre is going to be uncovered and food is going to be denied. Through the mind, which, after all, is their mind, the predators inject into the lives of human beings whatever is convenient for them. And they ensure, in this manner, a degree of security to act as a buffer against their fear." "The sorcerers of ancient Mexico were quite ill at ease with the idea of when [the predator] made its appearance on Earth. They reasoned that man must have been a complete being at one point, with stupendous insights, feats of awareness that are mythological legends nowadays. And then, everything seems to disappear, and we have now a sedated man. What I'm saying is that what we have against us is not a simple predator. It is very smart, and organized. It follows a methodical system to render us useless. Man, the magical being that he is destined to be, is no longer magical. He's an average piece of meat." "There are no more dreams for man but the dreams of an animal who is being raised to become a piece of meat: trite, conventional, imbecilic.

We live, if we still do live, in a Sea of Chaos, out of which any fucking monster can evolve.

We may not be interested in chaos but chaos is interested in us

What else can you tell me?” Dad stares at me. “What have you learned while you were awake?” I learned that life is so, so fragile. I learned that you can know someone for just days and never forget the impression he left on you. I learned that art can be beautiful and sad at the same time. I learned that if someone loves you, he’ll wait for you to love him back. I learned that how much you want something doesn’t determine whether you get it or not, that “no” might not be enough, that life isn’t fair, that my parents can’t save me, that maybe no one can. “Nothing much,” I mutter.

We were on duty. We had jobs to do. When all hell breaks loose, we are the ones who run into the fires of hell, not away from it.

We think we can plan our lives," he muttered. "We think we can model reality. But chaos is an intrusive, inconsiderate bitch.

What I couldn’t bring myself to hate was the energy. I reveled in the way it ebbed and flowed as people connected over something and the way the multiplication of people intensified it around us. Energy made me both love and hate being in large crowds because there was too much chaos to the peace and too much peace to the chaos.

What I always hate is when people call our movement a 'revolution'. For this to be a revolution, we would have to be opposing a standing government. Look around; there is no standing government.

What I learned in this tragedy was the eternal lesson of good people going bad.

What is without dispute...is that the readers need [the BookWorld] just as much as we need them—to bring order to their apparent chaos, if nothing else.

What's law? Control? Law filters chaos and what drips through? Serenity? Law -- our highest ideal and our basest nature. Don't look too closely at the law. Do, and you'll find the rationalized interpretations, the legal casuistry, the precedents of convenience. You'll find the serenity, which is just another word for death.

What it takes to realize everything is fine around you? A road trip to the mountains where your soul dwells in the echoes of the winds that carry fragments of clouds with them. What it takes to realize world is going back to chaos and infinite hurry? End of the aforementioned road trip...

What you call your lies are fiction and myths. The art of creating a disguise can be as beautiful as the creation of a painting… I created a woman for my artist life, bold, gay, courageous, generous, fearless; and another to please my father, a clear-sighted woman with a love of beauty, harmony, and self-discipline, critical and selective; and still another who lives in chaos, embraces the weak and the stumbling and the confused.

When I lifted up the skin, a fat kidney worm dripping with gore raised its bald, blind head and glared at me.

Whenever we find ourselves stuck, whenever we find ourselves lost or confused by the chaos of the world, we can be sure that the only way to free ourselves is to take action of some kind. Action is the only thing that ever changes anything and in a world that ever changes, it is the best way to keep ourselves in the flow of the world unfolding.

When set out to create order, they create only misery.

When we don't interact people with sincerity in our hearts they receive mixed vibrations from us. These vibrations become source of disharmony and chaos for the people and the universe.

When there is complete peace of mind when the outer world is chaotic you will truly be free.

When this happens, as it is today, then, to quote Eric Hoffer, “When freedom destroys order, the yearning for order will destroy freedom.” At that point the words left or right will make no difference. They are only two roads to the same end. There is no difference between authoritarian government from the right or the left: the results are the same. An elite, an authoritarianism as such, will gradually force form on society so that it will not go on to chaos. And most people will accept it - from the desire for personal peace and affluence, from apathy, and from the yearning for order to assure the functioning of some political system, business, and the affairs of daily life. That is just what Rome did with Caesar Augustus

When we have made an experience or a chaos into a story we have transformed it, made sense of it, transmuted experience, domesticated the chaos.

When the world turns chaotic, we must be the better part of chaos.

When the time travel is eventually doable technologically, yesterday was dead a man who is going to be born tomorrow.

Where there is darkness, there is chaos and confusion, but when light shines, things are set in order and the light rules and governs.

When you are filled with inner clutter, the chaos reflects in your personality as obsessiveness, confusion, disorganisation, broken speech patterns, insomnia, indecisiveness, and lack of direction. When your home and world are in disrray, you can't relax. It takes more energy to be in chaos because you have to keep track of all the junk. Eventually exhaustion sets in. When you honestly look at clutter and ask if it's necessary in your life, buried emotions come to the surface.... Toss what's unnecessary so that you can finally relax, and your remaining possessions will have a clear place to land.

Where everyone wants to be a leader, it makes one a follower to want to be a leader, and a leader to know what to follow.

Where the Divine and the Human Meet" shows how important it is to meet the world with the creativity of an artist, particularly in these uncertain times: "What do we do with chaos? Creativity has an answer. We are told by those who have studied the processes of nature that creativity happens at the border between chaos and order. Chaos is a prelude to creativity. We need to learn, as every artist needs to learn, to live with chaos and indeed to dance with it as we listen to it and attempt some ordering. Artists wrestle with chaos, take it apart, deconstruct and reconstruct from it. Accept the challenge to convert chaos into some kind of order, respecting the timing of it all, not pushing beyond what is possible—combining holy patience with holy impatience--that is the role of the artist. It is each of our roles as we launch the twenty-first century because we are all called to be artists in our own way. We were all artists as children. We need to study the chaos around us in order to turn it into something beautiful. Something sustainable. Something that remains".

When you see a lion tearing apart a zebra, what sort of divine order you see there? What we see there is nothing but savagery, injustice and chaos, in short, we see a primitive disorder, we see an evolutionary cruelty and a primitive disturbance deprived of any kind of ethics!

Wherever in the world a country is governed by spiritually ill, politically empty, ethically rotten and mentally stupid people, over there you can find nothing but chaos, tears and fire!

WHO AM I? I have seven heavenly panels Leading up to a pointed sphere I’m multidimensional like a crystal And my center is never clear. I’m an inventor and pioneer. A mentor to my peers. But I'm not as sound as my shell reveals, Because I’m tormented by my fears - That may appear to be grounded But my insides are filled with tears. And the sadness is well-founded, From years and years Of traumatic experiences Compounded In the most demented Atmospheres. I talk but feel like nobody hears. Has reason disappeared? And, God, are you near? This is Giza’s 7th light force And I'm asking you to interfere. I can no longer walk amongst the blind and dead With open eyes and ears. I’m trying to maintain my sanity And to straighten up my veneer As I roll amongst the growing calamities Flowing on Earth’s severely trashed Frontier. Suzy Kassem, Rise Up and Salute the Sun (2010)

Why do we live out every day as if there is no hope to overcome our chaos and no possibility for living a stressed-less life when Scripture repeatedly reassures us that God has the power and the peace to make that happen?

Wind and breeze are separated today Crimson twilight denies to fade away Grass blades turn brown to match the soil We pretend to smile at every turmoil

Will you not bid me welcome, Brother?” the beast mocked. The dragon’s voice paralyzed Roger where he stood. Hearing it sapped his strength, stole his will, made him feel as though his mind had been crushed between slabs of stone. There was chaos in it, and destruction—a voice crafted of darkness and the death of worlds.

You are the children of Alexandria, born of Ptolemy’s stolen fire, and you do not know how rare the peace and freedoms you enjoy! In most of the world, men are killed for believing something different from their neighbor, or for having skin or eyes of a different shade, or for wanting something different in life. You do not know, in your innocence, how rare it is, how precious, this city where all of the peoples of the world mingle, and where anyone can believe what they will without fear. You know her beauty, her wealth, but you do not yet know her true treasures.” “I do,” Iras said, and I started. Her voice was clear and strong. “I do. Alexandria’s treasures are her ideas.” “Her freedom,” I said. Isis looked at Cleopatra. She answered, her voice low: “Her people.” Isis nodded. “And that is the core of it. To rule the Black Land, you must love her. From Alexandria Queen of the Seas to the cataracts of the Nile, from the scholars and poets to the farmers in the fields, you must love her. Can you do that, daughter of Ptolemy?” “Yes,” she said, and it seemed to me that Cleopatra stood a little straighter. “It will not be easy,” She said. “I have my sisters to help me.” Her eyes glanced over us again. “You do,” She said. “And they can help you carry this burden, and walk each turn with you, if they are willing.” “Willing to do what?” Iras asked. “To be My hands,” Isis said. “To walk the Progress of Isis. This is no easy time, daughters of Ptolemy. The things that have been built are fragile indeed, and easily lost. Cities fall. Crowns fail. Even the gods themselves may die.” “What can kill a god?” I asked, as I had never imagined such. Even in the stories where gods die, they are always reborn. She smiled, but Her smile did not touch Her eyes. “You would call it Apophis, the serpent who devours all. Unbeing. Uncreation. Things becoming nothing. You cannot imagine what Nothing is like.” She looked at me again, and for a moment I thought She was unnerved. “When men destroy wantonly, they are the servants of Apophis. When men burn books for the pleasure in it, cut down trees to see them fall, kill because they enjoy it, and care for nothing but that the world should make a splendid conflagration, there is Apophis. And against that stands all that We prize, all love, all learning, all joy. All of the people of the earth, under heaven. From the frozen wastes of the north to the shores of seas you cannot yet imagine, every man fights Apophis when he builds and defends and cherishes. But when he tears things down, he opens a door. And he lets Apophis in.” “And that is happening now,” Iras said keenly. Isis nodded. “Again,” She said. “It has happened before, when all was very nearly lost, and all about this Middle Sea cities fell and men died, until there were only the remnants of people, living in hardship and pain, most without even the letters to write or more to give them hope than the vague memory of a time past when there was enough food. It could happen again. And We will do anything to avert it.” “?‘We’?” I asked. She smiled. “The gods of the peoples of these lands, We who love you. We do not want to see Our children suffer. Mother of the World you have named Me, and Mother I am. I do not want to see any people suffer.” “The Black Land is a bulwark,” I said slowly, and it was as though I remembered something I already knew. “The Black Land is strong. It is here that You must make a stand.” She beamed at me like a teacher when a very young student has found a difficult answer. “It is here. The ancient roots of the Black Land, and the bright beacon that is Alexandria. Together, this is where We must make Our stand.

Within the church, it is possible for believers to possess a profound unity based on a shared commitment to Biblical truth, an intimate knowledge of the Lord Jesus Christ, and a deep level of spiritual maturity. Paul also adds "sound doctrine" and "growing in Christlikeness" as additional benefits that result from the saints being properly equipped to build up the body of Christ."(Comments on Ephesians 4 vs 11-13)

Writing is the way I make sense of a chaotic world. I see the tumultuous backdrop of humanity around me, and I feel it is my duty (mainly to myself) to create a sense of meaning and understanding in such an atmosphere. It's all about timing. In a world without order, I create order. Sequence and structure, even in the busiest of places, allow me to be at peace.

With inner peace, you are undisturbed by outside turbulence.

Without a little chaos life will be dull, unbeautiful, for we have been trained not to align with simplicity for too long.

With the world in a chaos of questions, family should be the answer.

Would that I knew what others ignore, Such as has not been repeated, To say it and have my heart answer me, To inform it of my distress. Shift to it the load on my back, The matters that afflict me. Relate to it of what I suffer And sigh “Ah" with relief! of meditate on what has happened, The events that occur throughout the land: Changes take place, it is not like last year, One year is more irksome than the other. The land breaks up, is destroyed. Becomes [a wasteland]. Order is cast out, Chaos is in the council hail ; The ways of the gods are violated, Their provisions neglected. The land is in turmoil. There is mourning everywhere; Towns, districts are grieving, All alike are burdened by wrongs. One turns one’s back on dignity. The lords of silence are disturbed; As dawn comes every day. The face recoils from events. I cry out about it, My limbs are weighed down, I grieve in my heart. It is hard to keep silent about it, Another heart would bend; But a heart strong in distress: It is a comrade to its lord. Had I a heart skilled in hardship, I would take my rest upon it. Weigh it down with words of grief. Lay on it my malady! He said to his heart: Come, my heart, I speak to you. Answer me my sayings! Unravel for me what goes on in the land, Why those who shone are overthrown. I meditate on what has happened: While trouble entered in today, And turmoil will not cease tomorrow, Everyone is mute about it. The whole land is in great distress, Nobody is free from erime; Hearts are greedy. He who gave orders takes orders, And the hearts of both submit. One wakes to it every day. And the hearts do not reject it. Yesterday's condition is like today’s None is wise enough to know it, None angry enough to cry out, One wakes to suffer each day. My malady is long and heavy. The sufferer lacks strength to save himself From that which overwhelms him. It is pain to be silent to what one hears, It is futile to answer the ignorant. To reject a speech makes enmity; The heart does not accept the truth, One cannot bear a statement of fact, A man loves only his own words. Everyone builds on crookedness, Right-speaking is abandoned. I spoke to you, my heart, answer you me, A heart addressed must not be silent, Lo, servant and master fare alike, There is much that weighs upon you!

Writing a first-draft battle scene is akin to real combat—chaos, confusion, and you must keep your cool as you fire word bullets downrange.

You are such a drama llama!" she shouted at her mother. The redhead blinked. "It's drama queen, dear." "No, it's llama...

You don’t see something until you have the right metaphor to let you perceive it

You need only one taste of madness, and the timeless journey can be spent in thoughts that follow behind like the fiery tail of a comet. And this glowing chaos, the soul will carry under the linings of its peace, to weave beautiful memories with.

„You know, life is just programmed chaos. Everybody starts out on one side—that’s the programmed part. But then chaos happens, and our album flips. We get fat or thin, or dye our hair and pierce our nose. But those are just our outsides. Our insides are still beautiful, even if we think we’re ugly children.