Best 923 quotes in «chaos quotes» category

No order, no pattern, just chaos. Lots of little universes separated by invisible screens . . .

No truth, no equality. No equality, no justice. No justice, no peace. No peace, no love. No love, only darkness.

Now I'm a glorified bureaucrat holding on by my fingernails as we all slide into super-powered chaos. A voice of reason in a world gone mad.

Occupy your thoughts with purpose and you will be so busy pursuing a meaningful future there will be no time for doubt, chaos and disappointment.

Numbers remained consistent. Numbers and facts attempted to bring order from a chaotic world, to make sense of the impossible. They were the foundation for colossal structures and the tiniest of clockwork machines alike. Ari loved numbers, and not just because they saved her life by keeping her alert in her surroundings.

Oh what a mad business, no good can come of it, only chaos, and not just chaos but evil. How did we gradually get entangled in such a terribly dangerous shambles!

Normality; show me normality, señor caballero, and I will show you an exception to the abnormal order of the universe; show me a normal event and I shall call it miraculous because it is normal.

One is only truly free in the eye of the storm.

One simple but powerful consequence of the fractal geometry of surfaces is that surfaces in contact do not touch everywhere. The bumpiness at all scales prevents that. Even in rock under enormous pressure, at some sufficiently small scale it becomes clear that gaps remain, allowing fluid to flow.

Of course, chaos can lead to failure and extinction. But so can order. Far more nations, people, and ideas die of atrophy than die from revolution. Both order and chaos are necessary ingredients for long run success - for sustainability.

One must be cold if one wishes to savor chaos.

Order is what exists before you start arranging things.

Once history holds your hand, it never lets go. But it has an anxious grip and takes you places you couldn’t expect.

Order is needed by the ignorant but it takes a genius to master chaos.

Order provides the stabilities that we crave, but chaos creates the opportunities for change that we need. [...] Those who are waiting for internal order will be the subjects of external chaos, those who yield to internal chaos will be the architects of a new order.

Order is just chaos waiting to happen

Our call to action is to be in the flow of life, accepting life as it is and as it comes. We must allow life to be life in all its impermanent grandeur. Nothing remains the same, and those who fight change, or are in denial of it, create chaos within their own lives and the lives of those they have influence over.

Our ability to measure and apportion time affords an almost endless source of comfort. “Synchronise watches at oh six hundred,” says the infantry captain, and each of his huddled lieutenants finds a respite from fear in the act of bringing two tiny pointers into jeweled alignment while tons of heavy artillery go fluttering overhead; the prosaic, civilian looking dial of the watch has restored, however briefly, an illusion of personal control. Good, it counsels, looking tidily up from the hairs and veins of each terribly vulnerable wrist; fine: so far, everything’s happening right on time… “Oh, let me see now,” says the ancient man, tilting his withered head to wince and blink at the sun in bewildered reminiscence, “my first wife passed away the spring of -” and for a moment he is touched with terror. The spring of what? Past? Future? What is any spring but a mindless rearrangement of cells in the crust of the spinning earth as it floats in endless circuit of its sun? What is the sun itself but one of a billion insensible stars forever going nowhere into nothingness? Infinity! But soon the merciful valves and switches of his brain begin to do their tired work, and “The spring of Nineteen-Ought-Six,” he is able to say. “Or no, wait-” and his blood runs cold again as the galaxies revolve. “Wait! Nineteen-Ought — Four.”… He may have forgotten the shape of his first wife’s smile and the sound of her voice in tears, but by imposing a set of numerals on her death, he has imposed coherence on his own life and on life itself… “Yes sir,” he can say with authority, “nineteen-Ought-Four,” and the stars tonight will please him as tokens of his ultimate heavenly rest. He has brought order out of chaos.

Pandemonium isn’t convenient, but often it’s more natural than stability.

Painted faces laughed. It was like a mad carnival where everyone was oblivious, lost in the bliss of chaos, a throng unaware of a bomb planted beneath the floorboards.

Outside the port, the slashed rock of the unnamed asteroid tumbled and spun in dynamics known only to the gods of chaos mathematics.

Peace alone, chaos with another? I will always seek peace.

People are, at their heart, constantly moving toward a state of entropy. Much like this ship. We’re all spiraling out of control.

People talk about survival. What they mean is killing the other guy.

People today will have you believing life is a blank slate upon which you can write anything at all--this is poetic, even romantic. Unfortunately, it's also a lie, because life exists in, is bound by, shaped by, controlled by, and functions within a construct. Attempt to function outside that construct, or bend it to our will, or remove it completely, and you throw all of society into chaos. We're seeing that now. Like it or not, birds don't fly upside down...and neither can we.

Perhaps Lila was right: my book—even though it was having so much success—really was bad, and this was because it was well organized, because it was written with obsessive care, because I hadn’t been able to imitate the disjointed, unaesthetic, illogical, shapeless banality of things.

Perhaps it is controlling the chaos within more than the chaos without.

Pick a leader who will make their citizens proud. One who will stir the hearts of the people, so that the sons and daughters of a given nation strive to emulate their leader's greatness. Only then will a nation be truly great, when a leader inspires and produces citizens worthy of becoming future leaders, honorable decision makers and peacemakers. And in these times, a great leader must be extremely brave. Their leadership must be steered only by their conscience, not a bribe.

People think by creating rules they will create order. But the opposite is true: rules create discord, friction, chaos.

(Q: From an outsider’s perspective, what you call “chaos magick” has a lot of rules, discipline, and order involved, and doesn’t seem very chaotic at all. What would you say to such a person?) A: I differentiate sternly between Chaos and Entropy. Only highly ordered and structured systems can display complex creative and unpredictable behaviour, and then only if they have the capacity to act with a degree of freedom and randomness. Systems which lack structure and organisation usually fail to produce anything much, they just tend to drift down the entropy gradient. This applies both to people and to organisations.

Put the things you can control in order. Repair what is in disorder, and make what is already good better. It is possible that you can manage, if you are careful. People are very tough. People can survive through much pain and loss. But to persevere they must see the good in Being. If they lose that, that are truly lost.

[Pope] Clement waved his hands in irritation as if to dismiss the very idea. "The world is crumbling into ruin. Armies are marching. Men and women are dying everywhere, in huge numbers. Fields are abandoned and towns deserted. The wrath of the Lord is upon us and He may be intending to destroy the whole of creation. People are without leaders and direction. They want to be given a reason for this, so they can be reassured, so they will return to their prayers and their obiediences. All this is going on, and you are concerned about the safety of two Jews?

Rage is the truest path to chaos.

Remember. Observe, assess and act. No hesitation. No remorse.

Rico laughed a little, feeling helpless. "Is your life always this...I don't know-" "Tide of chaos washing ashore on the beach of what the fuck? Yesh.

Reality is not wild or chaos. It is a grand artwork of the existence. Compassion is harmonizing our soul with the grand melody of the existence.

Romantic poetry, on the other hand, is the expression of the secret attraction to a choas which lies concealed in the very bosom of the ordered universe, and is perpetually striving for marvellous births; the life-giving spirit of primal love broods here anew on the face of the water. The former (the antique) is more simple, clear, and like to nature in the self-existent perfection of her separate works; the latter (the romantic) notwithstanding its fragmentary appearance, approaches more to the secret of the universe.

Sal turned, an eye stalk hanging from his teeth.

Sabotage isolated them from their home, thwarting any hope of outside help. Frantic, unreliable sightings of frightening things – horrible things - led to chaos. The crew, terrified, opted to die fighting and went hunting for their attacker. Kaine’s only regret was that they found it. It killed them all. Systematically.

Sam, Edilio’s a good guy,” Albert said, breaking in on Sam’s gloomy thoughts. “But like I said, he’ll tell the rest of them. Once the council knows, everyone knows. If everyone knows how desperate things are, what do you think will happen?” Sam smiled without humor. “About half the people will be great. The other half will freak.” “And people will end up getting killed,” Albert said. He cocked his head sideways, trying his best to look like the idea had just occurred to him. “And who is going to end up kicking butts? Who will end up playing Daddy and then be resented and blamed and finally told to go away?” “You’ve gained new skills,” Sam said bitterly. “You used to just be about working harder than anyone else and being ambitious. You’re learning how to manipulate people.” Albert’s mouth twitched and his eyes flashed angrily. “You’re not the only one walking around with a big load of responsibility on your shoulders, Sam. You play the big mean daddy who won’t let anyone have any fun, and I play the greedy businessman who is just looking out for himself. But don’t be stupid: maybe I am greedy, but without me no one eats. Or drinks.

Revenge is starting a fire you can't control.

Self-similarity is symmetry across scale. It implies recursion, pattern inside of pattern.

She danced in the storms, sang with the chaos and more of all she wasn't the prey for her demons, she was the mother to them.

She gave herself a hard twist and fell into a sitting position, staring at me with those maggot-filled doll’s eyes.

Seen rightly, any situation, even a chaos or a trap would come clear and lead of itself to its one proper outcome: for there is in the long run no disharmony, only misunderstanding, no chance or mischance but only the ignorant eye.

She sat there alone after getting drenched enough by rain. In the silence of the midnight, Each drop that fell made a sound that was loud enough to wake all the memories inside her one after the other, before she could know what was happening she was lost somewhere in the past where the pictures in mind pushed her into a state of chaotic happiness and a blissful pain.

She had rosemary in her hair and stardust on her cheeks, and she was a mess of beautiful chaos, and Rhæna loved her more than life.

She smiled at him like a freshman invited to the senior prom. It made my blood boil.

She played me with a bad hand, and I fell for it every time.

She was sitting in a dark room, curled up and her head buried on her knees. His name echoing in her mind, like a thunder over a seashore. She was torn between the happiness brought by the waves, that touched her feet and fear of losing herself in the chaos. created by the sound that shattered her whole world into pieces.