Best 876 quotes in «confusion quotes» category

By now it was too late to call St. Jude. He chose an out-of-the-way patch of airport carpeting and lay it down to sleep. He didn't understand what had happened to him. He felt like a piece of paper that had once had coherent writing on it but had been through the wash. He felt roughened, bleached and worn out along the fold lines. He semi-dreamed of disembodied eyes and isolated mouths in ski masks. He'd lost track of what he wanted, and since who a person was was what a person wanted, you could say that he'd lost track of himself.

Clarity attracts and confusion repels.

Confusion and doubt are an important part of faith.

Confusion is a good state to be in. It means you are looking, constantly looking. People ask me, "Why do you confuse us like this?" I want you to understand, if you can be confused by anybody, it means you do not know. If you are fanatical, you cannot be confused. Or if you are realized, you cannot be confused. Between ignorance and enlightenment is a very thin line. But they are worlds apart.

come on, you shouldn't continue to disturb your mind with everything. Avoid thinking about anything at all, leave something, keep something and think about something!

Confusion is like a delusion, it's like dust covering the mirror of your real potentials and identity followed by your true belief system by turning it out into negative one which makes your self-image blur so you feel low and dull to perform anything bigger, somehow it kills the fruits of all your efforts unexpectedly, it has an ability to blow the flame of your passion..... there are a lot of sources you will find around, stay away from anyone who makes you confuse, anything, person, ideology or belief any source that makes you feel like that, stay away from it, leave it and live your real life.

Confused? Confusion is good. It’s an excellent place to learn something new from.

Confusion and hopelessness don't necessarily cause a person to act.

Confusion is not the absence of thinking it’s the absence of logic, All the options must be taken into account. If the logic does not fit into the thinking, just think again logically.

Confusion is like a delusion, it's like dust covering the mirror of your real potentials and identity followed by your true belief system by turning it out into negative one which makes your self-image blur so you feel low and dull to perform anything bigger, somehow it kills the fruits of all your efforts unexpectedly, it has an ability to blow the flame of your passion..... there are a lot of sources you will find around, stay away from anyone who makes you confuse, anything, person, ideology or belief any source that makes you feel like that, stay away from it, leave it and live your real life.” – Mohsin Ali Shauk

Confusion: the bastard half brother of chaos. Chaos: the torture instrument of forgetting.

Confusion causes creativity.

Debemos guardarnos de la confusión en que por contiguity [contiguidad] psicológica, para decirlo igual que los ingleses, muy fácilmente cae un artista: la de creer que él mismo es aquello que él puede representar, concebir, expresar. En realidad ocurre que, si él lo fuera, no lo podría en absoluto representar, concebir, expresar.

Considering she’d just blown his gray matter into the ether, he was screwed.

deberíamos esclarecer primero la relación que la Filosofía tiene con disciplinas como la Ciencia; sobre todo porque en el mundo moderno se les confunde con frecuencia.

democracy is a see-saw between complete chaos and tolerable confusion

Denial protected us, screening out certain experiences & feelings until we grew strong enough to relate to them...Yet it also dropped a curtain over our experience, obscuring it, leaving us with a sense of missing pieces. For instance, when we achieved something, we felt like an imposter. Or, though we had a relationship with a significant other, we often felt alone and unrelated to anyone.

Don't make a bridge which divides you with everyone by your own assumptions ..... "As distance always doesn't ensure solutions

Dead ends are where the real thinking begins.

Don't try to understand things and you won't feel confused.

Don't try to understand and you won't be confused.

Dear Waves, You have been restless all your life? Or maybe uneasy? I don't know quite. Oscillating between faiths, swinging between shores! Yet when we sit next to you on those sands, do you never feel like sharing what bothers you so much?

Doubts are good. Confusion is excellent. Questions are awesome. All these are attempts to expand the wisdom of mind.

El lenguaje [...] nunca fue diseñado para entenderse, sino para confundirse.

Do we have a hand mirror?' I asked from the kitchen doorway. 'Never use one,' said Lester, examining the date on a carton of sour cream. 'Naturally, you're a male. What you see is what you've got,' I said resentfully. 'Huh?' said Lester.

El amor se trunca a veces como un miembro amputado, pero el vacío sigue haciendo sus gestos, que tal vez alguien reciba. Aunque el amor se vaya, el hábito de amar se alarga siempre. Por eso no es extraño que si el amor retorna sus gestos se entremezclen con los gestos anteriores. Y aparezcan amores que vagan por el mundo con gestos duplicados, amores que parecen dos amores. No es raro, por lo tanto, que confundamos un amor con otro y hasta amemos aquel que ya no está en lugar del que está.

Durante un momento, ni siquiera un momento, durante menos de medio segundo, me lo imagino diciendo: "La verdad es que me siento desesperadamente atraído por ti". Y después me imagino a mí mismo escupiéndole en la cara. Luego me imagino lamiéndole el escupitajo de la mejilla y besándole. (Porque estoy mal de la cabeza. Y si no, preguntadle a quien queráis.)

Essentially, love is the Donnie Darko of feelings: Anyone who brags, "I, like, totally get it man," is either full of crap or really, really high (or they watched the commentary on the DVD).

For it is a fact that a man can be profoundly out of step with his times. A man may have been born in a city famous for its idiosyncratic culture and yet, the very habits, fashions, and ideas that exalt that city in the eyes of the world may make no sense to him at all. As he proceeds through life, he looks about in a state of confusion, understanding neither the inclinations nor the aspirations of his peers.

Fear grew in places unlit by knowledge.

For those of my generation, the war had been a fact of life since birth. Many had assumed it would end at our deaths, and not before that. So for a great number of people, perhaps even all of us, the end of the war had meant a feeling of confusion and dissatisfaction. No one knew his place in life without the war to give it structure. We were all like the tigers, turned loose in the city streets and found again a bare day later, hiding ourselves in familiar, small spaces. It was all that we knew- a way of life better suited to us than freedom.

...for each of us sees clarity only in those ideas which have the same degree of confusion as his own.

Grocery shopping was intimidating...the aisles were filled with everything from jumbo to miniature travel-sized rations. Who could I call to ask, “Does the size even matter?” I dare not ask my ex-wife.

God is not a God of confusion, although at times one's judgment, for a period, may become clouded in the mi(d)st of one's growth process. I stopped fooling myself into thinking that Christ is always for the cool kids and never for those upright and uptight religious people everybody hates.

Go Home. Cut your losses. Stay. Go for it. You are a republic of voices tonight. Unfortunately, that republic is Italy. All these voices waving their arms and screaming at one another.

He could’ve penned a rendition of Moby Dick in Pig Latin and he wouldn’t have been the wiser.

He bit back a weary sigh and tried to remember strangling her would solve squat.

He bit his lip, struggling to make words out of the war waging itself in his chest. "I don't know what this makes me," he managed at last. Hook laughed, not unkindly. "It makes you whatever you want it to make you.

He rolled his eyes and took my hand. His hand was hard and calloused, tough with muscle and old scars. The night settled around us like a blanket. I could hear the water lapping against the dock. We were totally alone. “You’re . . . ,” he began, and I waited, heart throbbing in my throat. “Such a pain,” he concluded. “What?” I asked, just as his head swooped in and his mouth touched mine. I tried to speak, but one of Fang’s hands held the back of my head, and he kept his lips pressed against me, kissing me softly but with a Fanglike determination. Oh, jeez, I thought distractedly. Jeez, this is Fang, and me, and . . . Fang tilted his head to kiss me more deeply, and I felt totally lightheaded. Then I remembered to breathe through my nose, and the fog cleared a tiny bit. Somehow we were pressed together, Fang’s arms around me now, sliding under my wings, his hands flat against my back. It was incredible. I loved it. I loved him. It was a total disaster. Gasping, I pulled back. “I, uh—,” I began oh so coherently, and then I jumped up, almost knocking him over, and raced down the dock. I took off, flying fast, like a rocket.

He had always thought there was an answer to all life's mysteries in the stars, yet whenever he stared at them the answer slipped out of his grasp... But he had to think now, and he stared at the smoke-dimmed stars in the hope that they would help him, but all they did was go on shining.

He had been violently confused by her real presence in the opposite inaccessible corner. For months he had been possessed by the imagination of her. She had been distant and closed away, a princess in a tower, and his imagination’s work had been all to make her present, all of her, to his mind and senses, the quickness of her and the mystery, the whiteness of her, which was part of her extreme magnetism, and the green look of those piercing or occluded eyes. Her presence had been unimaginable, or more strictly, only to be imagined. Yet here she was, and he was engaged in observing the ways in which she resembled, or differed from, the woman he dreamed, or reached for in sleep, or would fight for.

He may take long walks in the raining dark almost aimlessly to a spot of soaked grass in a neighbor’s open field. He’s decided this is the place for you and him to meet again.

Her son seemed to be belatedly rebelling against all his celebrated accomplishments- as well as the responsibilities inherent in them, the obligations to own his talents.In that rebellion, she saw a young man who was confused and upset that his life wasn't stacking up to be what he and everyone around him had always assumed it would.

He's gone now. He did something terrible, but...he did good things, too. And he kept us well. And it's all right if you are sad.

He was troubled; this brain, so limpid in its blindness, had lost its transparency; there was a cloud in this crystal.

How could he hate the Jews and yet feel sick when they were attacked? Louis hated peasants, too, apparently, and yet he had no problem sitting beside Jeanne - hoisting her in the air and dancing even. Jacob tried to turn this over in his head, around and around, like the cartwheels beneath him. But after a while, he gave up. People were too strange to understand, he decided. They were like life. And also that cheese. Too many things at once.

He who knows he is a fool is not the biggest fool; he who knows he is confused is not in the worst confusion. The man in the worst confusion will end his life without ever getting straightened out; the biggest fool will end his life without ever seeing the light. If three men are traveling along and one is confused, they will still get where they are going - because confusion is in the minority. But if two of them are confused, then they can walk until they are exhausted and never get anywhere - because confusion is in the majority.

However, Gregor had become much calmer. All right, people did not understand his words any more, although they seemed clear enough to him, clearer than previously, perhaps because had gotten used to them

How can I be strong when I do not know my own mind? I am lost." "That's not true. You are not lost. It's just that your own thoughts are being kept from you, or hidden away. But the mind is strong. It survives, even without thought. Even with everything taken away, it holds a seed-- your self. You must believe in your own powers.

How I long to run through the front gate, into the night. This new Iran has taken something from me, ripped a hole in my soul. Somewhere in this tumble, I worry if I've lost my moral certainty. Who knows what fell out, but a part of me is missing. That much is clear.