Best 923 quotes in «chaos quotes» category

Writing is magic because it harnesses the energy generated by the chaos within.

Writing, then, was a substitute for myself: if you don't love me, love my writing & love me for my writing. It is also much more: a way of ordering and reordering the chaos of experience.

Yes it was chaos, working through chaos, you never quite knew what you were going to do each day, but you knew that you wanted to make something.

You are never so low that you deserve to be lower.

You can organize elections any day, even tomorrow. But what will be the result of chaotic elections? More chaos!

You can reconstruct the picture from chaos and memory's ruins.

You can't build politics on love. People aren't concerned with love; it's too disordered. They prefer despotism. Too much freedom breeds chaos.

You could eat sushi off my bookshelf. My cleaning regime is like a battleground. I'm Genghis Khan and my cleaning products are my Mongolian army and I take no prisoners. The rest of my life is an experiment in chaos so I like to keep my flat neat.

You feel kind of weird cheering for chaos. There is that sense that the crazier it gets, the better off we are. Before, when I was part of the American public, I was hoping for a reasonable and quick solution to the impeachment process. Now, I'm hoping for partisan bedlam and chaos. It's really what serves me best.

You fear that if you lower your guard for even one second your whole world will disintegrate into chaos

You invite things to happen. You open the door. You inhale. And if you inhale the chaos, you give the chaos, the chaos gives back.

You have to have a plan, or else you're just creating a recipe for chaos.

A culture capable of imagining complexly is a humble culture. It acts, when it has to act, as late in the game as possibl, and as cautiously, because it knows its girth and the tight confines of the china shop it's blundering into. And it knows that no matter how well prepared it is -- no matter how ruthlessly it has held its projections up to intelligent scrutiny -- the place it is headed for is going to very different from the place it imagined. The shortfall between the imagined and the real, multiplied by the violence of one's intent, equals the evil one will do.

A choice to listen to the chaos your mind creates or the whispers of intuitive wisdom from the heart.

You must not forget that a monster is only a variation, and that to a monster the norm is monstrous.

You're an entropic chaos factor

You seek identity in the midst of indistinguishab le chaos, in sprawling nameless reality.

You see, the outcome of the battle is unimportant. What matters is the chaos, and the slaughter.

After tail spinning into chaos, one needs a bolt-hole, to resource and ‘challenge’ oneself, break free from the haunting constrictions, squirrel back into bouncy and buoyant surroundings and enjoy the many laugh-out-loud-moments of the day. As soon as one manages to wobble out of one’s shell, everything may click into place again and the radiance and glare of the bright side of life might show again. ("Imbroglio")

a finger pointing with particular aim too far from the goal in effect points at everything.

Afterward the Captain was to tell himself that in this one instant he knew everything. Actually, in a moment when a great but unknown shock is expected, the mind instinctively prepares itself by abandoning momentarily the faculty of surprise. In that vulnerable instant a kaleidoscope of half-guessed possibilities project themselves, and when the disaster has defined itself there is the feeling of having understood beforehand in some supernatural way.

A little manic was okay. A little manic paid the bills and got him up in the morning, made him magic when he needed it most.

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

All things need some degree of order; of substance, form and structure. Show me a storm or the most beautiful day without form, and I’ll show you chaos and dissonance that is not unlike a symphony of wailing scorched cats.

A multi-party system is a system in which multiple political parties run for national election thus turning it into a multi-party chaos.

Anarchists did not try to carry out genocide against the Armenians in Turkey; they did not deliberately starve millions of Ukrainians; they did not create a system of death camps to kill Jews, gypsies, and Slavs in Europe; they did not fire-bomb scores of large German and Japanese cities and drop nuclear bombs on two of them; they did not carry out a ‘Great Leap Forward’ that killed scores of millions of Chinese; they did not attempt to kill everybody with any appreciable education in Cambodia; they did not launch one aggressive war after another; they did not implement trade sanctions that killed perhaps 500,000 Iraqi children. In debates between anarchists and statists, the burden of proof clearly should rest on those who place their trust in the state. Anarchy’s mayhem is wholly conjectural; the state’s mayhem is undeniably, factually horrendous.

All the cops were tied up trying to maintain control, but it was already lost.

Always lists to be made, as if writing items in neat vertical rows might stave off randomness and chaos.

A man without a filter, is chaos walking

And don't go whining to God about it. It was pretty clear that there was no God up there, no kindly old gent looking down, keeping score in a notebook. You did good, you did bad, it didn't make any difference, did it? This one's going to heaven, this one's going to hell, this one's going to Disneyland. No. God wouldn't have let any of this shit happen. If you were going to believe in anything, then believe in the devil. He was much more real than God. Up there causing mischief. Laughing at the chaos he'd created.

And he knew something else as a social evolutionist that he might stress someday in his 'Every Change Is for the Worse' should he ever find time to write it: Gold knew that the most advanced and penultimate stage of a civilization was attained when chaos masqueraded as order, and he knew we were already there.

And I silently simmered in the chaos of my mind and heart.

-and then what happened?- I asked him, but I had no desire to know. Whatever it was, it has to be ugly.

And this notion of the meaninglessness of our lives here began to enflame us. I took up the theme again that music and acting were good because they drove back chaos. Chaos was the meaninglessness of day-to-day life, and if we were to die now, our lives would have been nothing but meaninglessness.

A peculiar sort of chaos looms beneath the pretense of peace.

An infinite, inscrutable blackness has annihilated sight! Where is our universe? All crumbled away from us; and we, adrift in chaos, may hearken to the gusts of homeless wind, that go sighing and murmuring about in quest of what was once a world!

And you know what? My kisses are mine. I don't have to explain them to anyone, I'll give them out as I see fit and to whomever I want. Like money. Except that everyone has kisses, they're much more democratic, and a lot more dangerous too, since they put us all on the same level. And if you did the same, if we all did the same, the world might be a little more chaotic but a lot more fun.

APPLY WITHIN You once told me You wanted to find Yourself in the world - And I told you to First apply within, To discover the world within you. You once told me You wanted to save The world from all its wars - And I told you to First save yourself From the world, And all the wars You put yourself Through. APPLY WITHIN by Suzy Kassem

Art is the only answer to chaos and the void.

A riverless silence made the air heavy.

Artists are agents of chaos. It is the artists job to encourage entropy, to promote chaos. Idols must be killed, icons crushed, beliefs shattered. It is the artists job to encourage legitimate, unadulterated, raw thought and emotion. Art that does nothing new, that simply fills an established role, is not art. It is a product. A stale, stagnant product of a disgustingly mundane process that has been done so much it is assumed mandatory. Little different than feces. The last thing the world needs is to get shittier.

As long as no one gets tired From hiding behind one’s self, Let’s keep on playing this silly game of pretend That we no longer fear what tomorrow hides And That our Yesterdays left us no aches in our cores Nor chaos in our minds … Let’s just pretend

As happens so often in history at the dying of one age and the birth of another, an era of phenomenal ugliness, strife, and chaos was about to unfold.

A teď, když vstupoval do závěrečných fází svého aktivního života, začínal chápat, že pokud nedojde k nějaké nepředvídané souhře okolností, jeho život se nezmění. Byl oklamán. Odjakživa se domníval, že v jeho dospělosti jednou nastane čas jakéhosi stabilizovaného stavu, kdy se naučí využívat veškeré triky, jak řídit svůj život nebo jen jednoduše žít. Kdy vyřídí veškerou poštu a e-maily, všechny papíry bude mít v pořádku, knihy vyrovnané na policích podle abecedy, oblečení a boty v dobrém stavu v šatnících a v botníku, všechny věci na svých místech, kde je bude umět najít, Svou minulost včetně dopisů a fotografií roztříděnou v krabicích a šanonech, soukromý život usazený a poklidný, stejně jako bydlení a peníze. Za celé ty roky nikdy k žádnému podobnému urovnání nedošlo, stabilizovaného stavu nikdy nedosáhl, ale přesto nadále předpokládal, aniž by nad stavem věcí uvažoval, že je už na dosah chvíle, kdy po vynaloženém úsilí kýženého stavu dosáhne, že nastane okamžik, kdy jeho život bude přehledný a duše svobodná, a jeho dospělá existence bude moct náležitě začít. Ale nedlouho po narození Catriony, přibližně v době, kdy se seznámil s Darlene, se domníval, že situaci poprvé vidí v celé její nahotě: v den, kdy umře, bude mít na sobě ponožky, které nepůjdou do páru, v počítači bude mít hromadu nezodpovězených e-mailů a v brlohu, kterému říká domov, budou nadále košile s chybějícími manžetovými knoflíčky, selhávající světlo na chodbě, nezaplacené složenky, neuklizená půda, mrtvé mouchy, a kolem něho budou kamarádi čekající na odpověď a milenky, k nimž se nebude hlásit. Zapomnění, poslední slovo v uspořádání všech věcí, mu bude jedinou útěchou.

As melancholia replaced the jarring of my invention, I sat. Unable to breathe in the smog I had created, unable to stand on my betraying legs, unable to howl at the heavens over my sordid soul. In this inferno, I became paroxysmic, my self-hatred, superparamount, numbness dulling the agony of such a devilish act, An iron curtain fell upon the surrounding world, or at least what I had left of it to be owned by the laconic eclipse. All the angels fled, disowning my prayers, the lurid world backed away, leaving me forsaken and detached, I could no longer hear the bombings, hear them fall, my own fabrication, only the dead air that came after, the intense silence. Cynical and paralyzed, I realized I had purloined a portion of Hell and given it to the unwilling Earth, Punishing those I had no right to punish, judging those I had no reason to condemn, destroying cities I had never set foot in. This is how I became Death, the destroyer of Worlds.

A society is an organic system that develops spontaneously, governed by myriad interactions and adjustments that no human mind can pretend to understand. Just because we cannot capture its workings in verbal propositions does not mean it should be scrapped and reinvented according to the fashionable theories of the day. Such ham-fisted tinkering will only lead to unintended consequences, culminating in violent chaos.

As time moves on the line will blur. It will no longer seem to be the simplicity of good versus evil, but good versus fools who think they are good.

At a time like this with damage and disorder everywhere, no tale is too absurd to be believed and even decent people seek something on which to vent their anger.

At the fringe edge of advancement it's a war of anarchy and chaos.

Backstage was chaos distilled into a very small space.