. . . many of us inhibit our capacity for growth because the culture encourages us to live lives of uniformity. We stall, deny, ignore the ensuing crisis because of confusion, malaise, and yes, even propriety.
Clear communication between selves - the surface self and the deep self - is the enemy of self-doubt. It slays confusion.
The tragedy is not that love doesn't last. The tragedy is the love that lasts.
If you wish to feign confusion in order to lure the enemy on, you must first have perfect discipline; if you wish to display timidity in order to entrap the enemy, you must have extreme courage; if you wish to parade your weakness in order to make the enemy over-confident, you must have exceeding strength.
When you are in the middle of a story it isn't a story at all, but only a confusion; a dark roaring, a blindness, a wreckage of shattered glass and splintered wood; like a house in a whirlwind, or else a boat crushed by the icebergs or swept over the rapids, and all aboard powerless to stop it. It's only afterwards that it becomes anything like a story at all. When you are telling it, to yourself or to someone else.
At any moment, we are either giving humanity the gift of our clarity or our confusion. And that clarity or confusion is affecting the humanity around us, the world around us. It is manifesting. It is taking form.
The image that fiction presents is purged of the distractions, confusions and accidents of ordinary life.
I'd get suspicious looks from people just walking down the streets. Where are you from? They'd ask. I'd reply in whatever language they'd addressed me in using the same accent that they used. There would be a brief moment of confusion, and then the suspicious look would disappear.
Hate grows and victors where love is afraid to share its bloom.
We're living in a fearful time. Since 911 people have become more afraid than before, because of terrorism. There's a lot of confusion about evil, where it's all coming from.
The little waiter's eyebrows wandered about his forehead in confusion.
Your central self is totally untouched by grief, confusion, desperation.
We often confuse what we wish for with what is.
There is no love lost between us.
People look for morals in fiction because there has always been a confusion between fiction and philosophy.
I feel very comfortable with the way I look, and I feel very comfortable with the kind of confusion that it creates in people's minds.
Religion is a system of wishful illusions together with a disavowal of reality, such as we find nowhere else but in a state of blissful hallucinatory confusion. Religion's eleventh commandment is "Thou shalt not question.
Most of us know exactly what it is that creates the pain, confusion, stagnation and disruption in our lives. When we find something or someone creating in our lives that which we do not want, we must muster the courage and strength to stop it.
When the Special Theory of Relativity began to germinate in me, I was visited by all sorts of nervous conflicts. . . I used to go away for weeks in a state of confusion.
Do not doubt your own basic goodness. In spite of all confusion and fear, you are born with a heart that knows what is just, loving, and beautiful.