Best 876 quotes in «confusion quotes» category

That had been the end of Communism. I had a feeling watching the tape that America would be next, but for once I kept my mouth shut. In my silence I felt our common ground: here we were, two men, neither young, neither with money, neither earning a penny or holding down a job or owning a house, both thoroughly confused by the way the world was turning.

That said, what we can learn in the chapters ahead is enormous. We can maximize the chance of being heard and moving relationships forward. We can take a conversation to the next level when the initial foray doesn’t bring the desired result. We can stop nonproductive conversational habits so that an old relationship will take a new turn. We can clarify what we feel entitled to and responsible for—and what we really want to say. Or, alternatively, we can learn to sit more comfortable with our confusion. We can operate from a solid position of self, even when the other person won’t speak to us at all.

The butterflies are working their way up from my stomach into my head, making me feel dizzy, and I try to calm myself by imagining the ocean outside, its ragged breathing, the seagulls turning pinwheels in the sky. It will be over soon, I tell myself. It will be over soon and then you’ll go home, and you’ll never have to think about the evaluation again.

The confusion is always created within the illusion.

The Constitution was framed in order to form a more perfect union, not to establish mass confusion.

The Dimwit's Guide to the Female Mind might assist your efforts in understanding human females. But it must be pointed out that this subject can be a dangerous adventure and should be undertaken with extreme caution. After all, human males have been trying to understand their females for generations, and most of the time they come away from these encounters looking like someone stuck their tails into an electric socket.

The cost of ignorance is high and it can erode life, vision and wealth to the barren grounds of poverty and perplexity.

The days had become a confusion of catastrophes; what seemed impossible in the afternoon was blunt fact by the evening.

The enemy knows that without surrender, we will never experience the freedom that God offers us. Without surrender, we will remain spiritually malnourished, ill and confused. Without surrender, our foxholes become prisons of the enemy's making. Our lack of full surrender limits God's ability to both work in our lives and through our lives. God's call to surrender is not an intimidating, angry bark heard from the other side of a battlefield. God's invitation to surrender is expressed through the example of his Son, Jesus, as described in Philippians 2:5-11.

…the known had been so long dwarfed by the unknown that confusion was an easy bedfellow.

The great spider never worries itself chasing after its prey with all of its energy and strength. It only exerts its energy each morning to build its web in a magnificent way; relaxes in it and awaits its prey that will miss its path into the web

The eyes were certainly memorable and beautiful, moist calves' eyes heavily lashed and with the same look of troubled pain at the unpredictability of the world's terrors.

The fog eventually clears itself.

The problem with radio frequency (RF) exposure is not the small amount of brain tumors, is it the large amount of subtle alterations in the brain that lead to attention, confusion, insomnia and fatigue problems.

Then, slowly, my feet settled to the ground. Before I had taken six steps I sagged like a sail when the wind fades. As I walked back through the town, past sleeping houses and dark inns, my mood swung from elation to doubt in the space of three brief breaths. I had ruined everything. All the things I had said, things that seemed so clever at the time, were in fact the worst things a fool could say. Even now she was inside, breathing a sigh of relief to finally be rid of me. But she had smiled. Had laughed. She hadn't remembered our first meeting on the road from Tarbean. I couldn't have made that much of an impression on her. 'Steal me,' she had said. I should have been bolder and kissed her at the end. I should have been more cautious. I had talked too much. I had said too little.

The majority of mental illness is not mass shooters, it is people with forgetfulness, confusion and irritability.

The mystical trend of our time, which shows itself particularly in the rampant growth of the so-called Theosophy and Spiritualism, is for me no more than a symptom of weakness and confusion. Since our inner experiences consist of reproductions, and combinations of sensory impressions, the concept of a soul without a body seem to me to be empty and devoid of meaning. - Albert Einstein, letter of February 5, 1921

The Press. -- If we consider how even to-day all great political transactions glide upon the stage secretly and stealthily; how they are hidden by unimportant events, and seem small when close at hand; how they only show their far-reaching effect, and leave the soil still quaking, long after they have taken place; -- what significance can we attach to the Press in its present position, with its daily expenditure of lung-power in order to bawl, to deafen, to excite, to terrify? Is it anything more than an everlasting false alarm, which tries to lead our ears and our wits into a false direction?

There are always certain things which are certain and there are always certain things which are uncertain for us to think about each day and when such things are over, there shall always be something to think about

There are always certain things which are certain and certain things which are uncertain for us to think about each day and when such are over, there shall always be something to think about

There are certain truths that occurs to us, which we cannot convey in words, but requires a personal experience to grasp more vividly.

There are only two classes of people. "The Clear", powered by their confusion and "The Confused", powered by their clarity

There are times in relationships, when we blow it. In spite of our best intentions, we wrong others. Our jealousy makes us feel inferior. Our own wounds cause us to act irrationally. Our insecurities lead us to say hurtful things. And so, we find ourselves acting out. In short, we cloud our lives with muddy water. We trash around the pond of our emotions until things are just too messed up to figure out how to fix them. It is in the times of muddy water that we learn how to wait it out. We have to wait until the mud settles. We must wait until we can clearly see where the water of our lives ends and the mud of misplaced emotions begin. Have the patience to wait until the mud settles. Be still until the water is clear. In clear water, words come. Right actions reveal them selves and healing appears.---From the Devotional A Word in Season

There, there, best to bring it all up,' she said. My memory was in shreds. Imagine a photograph cut into narrow strips then jumbled up. Everything is there, but you can't see the whole picture and even the strips have no bearing on reality. I did know I had consumed a large amount of alcohol. But I must have done something crazier than just being found drunk to have a nurse sitting by my bed. I thought it would be a good idea to say something and planned it for several seconds. 'She's all right,' I said. 'Who is?' asked the nurse. 'Alice. I'm all right now.' As I spoke I wondered if I had said something wrong. didn't sound like me. There were so many voices muttering in the background it was hard to tell.

There is no complexity in what is, but only in the many escapes that we seek.

There is no storm like fear, no tempest like guilt, no cyclone like confusion, and no hurricane like ignorance.

There was another problem with Emma's father, difficult for a small child who already thought of herself as greedy - his way of trying to keep her attention, to bribe her, with gifts. On each vof her visits, he would appear with you presents, beautifully wrapped> And her confusion that she liked - and wanted - the presents, but not the man, was painful. He used 'sparkly Sellotape' and cut things into nice shapes and she wistfully writes: I wish he'd be able to translate that care into his treatment of me.

The top three symptoms that I observed in high altitude workers were: 1. Forgetfulness & Confusion; 2. Irritability; 3. Fatigue & Apathy.

These kinds of circumstances and bodily chemistry can steal the gifts of divine love too, as if all of God's love letters and picture albums are burning up in a fire just outside the door, a fire which we are helpless to stop. We sit there, helpless in the dark of divine absence, tied to this chair, present only to ash and wheeze, while all we hold dear seems lost forever. We even wonder if we're brought this all on ourselves. It's our fault. God is against us. We've forfeited God's help.

The young man was sort of ... well ... peering at this shovel, and Lisey knew not by his face but by the whole awkward this-way-n-that jut of his lanky body that he didn't have any idea what he was seeing. It could have been an artillery shell, a bonsai tree, a radiation detector, or a china pig with a slot in its back for spare silver; it could have been a whang-dang-doodle, a phylactery testifying to the pompetus of love, or a cloche hat made out of coyote skin. It could have been the penis of the poet Pindar. This guy was too far gone to know.

The world is full of confusion and contradiction. We cannot expect to do anything that is absolutely right. We can only measure rightness by the truth within ourselves. And our own truth will never be quite the same as somebody else's.

To be alive is to be dizzy and not to know exactly where to go.

Things are not as they seem. You do not understand. There is no escape. This is all there is.” I had never seen eyes filled with so much sadness.

Things are often exactly as they seem. Confusing isn't it.

Thus with most careful devotion Thus with precise attention To detail, interfering preparation Of that which is already prepared Men tighten the knot of confusion Into perfect misunderstanding.

To be happy to be sad and sad to be happy is to sing an echo in that beautiful language called Sorrow.

To whomever is writing this book, what do you want from me? I need to know my calling. Why was I chosen? Why not Lee? Why not Susan March? Why me? What is my purpose? Please let it be more than to destroy a life and embarrass another. I need to know. I am suffering. You are a constant headache. Anywhere I go, I can hear you, I can feel you. I want to be like the others, ignorant of this.

Too many are sorry where they should be assertive, and nearly moved to aggressive radical action, where they should be apologizing to themselves first, and then the world at large.

Today words curve around my vision, Stumbling from my parched core To soak again those strands of silence.

To love is to think. And I almost forget to feel only from thinking about her. I don’t know what I want at all, even from her, and I don’t think about anything but her. I have a great animated distraction. When I want to meet her, I almost feel like not meeting her, So I don’t have to leave her afterwards. And I prefer thinking about her, because it’s like I’m afraid of her. I don’t know what I want at all, and I don’t want to know what I want. All I want to do is think about her. I’m asking nothing of nobody, not even her, except to think.

Too many words left unsaid, instead of everything could come at once and break you all for once.

True belief is movement toward God even in the midst of confusion or frustration or fear.

Two things that annoy me, are; people who are positive out of ignorance, and people who are negative out of bitterness, People who are neither usually get along with me and agree with most of what I say. But People who are one of the two think I'm the other and at the end get confused totally.

Was it really possible she was dead? But the alternative was not much better. Because if she wasn't, the only other possibility - and suddenly I wasn't sure if it was better or worse - was that I was going mad.

Wait, seriously, what's a piss pot?

Was I happy? Maybe more content than bouncing-off-the-sofa-like-Tom-Cruise-ecstatic, but that’s still happy isn’t it?

We have not succeeded in answering all our problems. The answers we have found only serve to raise a whole set of new questions. In some ways we feel we are as confused as ever, but we believe we are confused on a higher level and about more important things.

We can’t try to outguess them anymore. Sometimes they do things just to make me do the opposite of what they think I think they think I want to do.” “Huh?” the three of them asked at the same time, confusion transforming their faces.

We are confusing making “progress” with eradicating the larger problem.

We can say one thing! And that's it... we are a nation which is fucking damn confused....