Confused Quotes
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I love playing confused, broken characters.
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Why do we smile? Why do we laugh? Why do we feel alone? Why are we sad and confused? Why do we read poetry? Why do we cry when we see a painting? Why is there a riot in the heart when we love? Why do we feel shame? What is that thing in the pit of your stomach called desire?
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This is from Payroll Division: I wasn’t even teaching in June, and I certainly don’t have $2.75. Apparently they don’t know I’m file # 443-817 and have got me confused with another–possibly.
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Jesus won't try to speak over the noise in our lives; love whispers so we won't be confused about who's doing the talking.
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The ideas of control and improvements are often confused with one another. This is because quality control and quality improvement are inseparable.
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When he (Roger Clemens) threw the bat (during Game 2 of the 2000 World Series), I basically walked out and kept asking him what his problem was. He really had no response. I was trying to figure out whether it was intentional or not. I was going to ask him. If it was, then obviously he really no had response. I was more shocked and confused than anything.
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Not to be confused with Spider-Man's other girlfriend Mary Jane Watson, who is a skank and doesn't love him like I do.
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I'd like to quit thinking of the present as some minor insignificant preamble to something else.
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But my favorite period for actors is the 70s. I think so many great movies were made in the 70s. The 90s just seem to be a confused decade. Nobody knows, really, what's going on.
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I get confused between the rock and roll thing and my movie star thing... We're f - -ing movie stars.
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Sensations are nothing but confused modes of thinking.
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As young girls we grow up with the idea that life is going to be a bit of a fairytale. But at some point reality hits and we realise that's not what life is about. Many of us are faced with eating disorders and mental health struggles, bad relationships and heartbreak, low self-esteem and confused sexualities and more. Life is very much real.
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I felt saddened and confused to discover my favorite mural gone, but also hopeful that another one may be in the works. Street art is mysterious and impermanent like that. It can appear or disappear overnight. Murals like these are at risk of desecration, transformation, erasure. Someone's gonna piss on it, draw a mustache on it, tag it. The weather's going to make it fade. That's part of the beauty, I think. Murals have value without being precious.
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I felt myself no longer a husk but a body with some of the body's sweet juices stirring again. I had my first dream in many months, confused but to this day imperishable, with a flute in it somewhere, and a wild goose, and a dancing girl.
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I might be confused sometimes in my head but it is not something you need to talk about. Before you can talk you have to line it all up in order and I had rather just let it swirl around until I am too tired to think. You just let the motion in your head wear you out. Never think about it. You just make a bigger mess that way.
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Clean undeniable right, clear undeniable might: either of these once ascertained puts an end to battle. All battle is a confused experiment to ascertain one and both of these.
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Are you weak? Weary? Confused? Troubled? Pressured? How is your relationship with God? Is it held in its place of priority? I believe the greater the pressure, the greater your need for time alone with Him.
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A confused mind is one that is open to the possibility of change.
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Jesus modelled that we don’t need to talk about everything we’ve done. It’s like He’s saying, what if we were just to do awesome, incredible stuff together while we’re here on earth and the fact that only He knew would be enough? If we did, we wouldn’t get confused about who was really making things happen. Not surprisingly, we’d get a lot more done too, because we wouldn’t care who’s looking or taking credit. All that energy would be funnelled into awesomeness.
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Love is when two people who care for each other get confused.
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Nothing is confused except the mind.
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My instinct tells me "purpose" is maybe the enemy of a good personal essay. In my own experience, I'm always lost and wandering and searching - where am I? how'd I get in this mess? what's the point? - right through to the final draft, and sometimes even beyond that - baffled and defeated still, confused as to purpose long after the thing's in print. I never really have a guiding purpose or a point, not at the outset, anyway. It's like life: It's all discovered en route.
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Do not be angry with an ungrateful person; probably they are confused or inexperienced.
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Humility, I have learned, must never be confused with meekness. Humility is being open to the ideas of others.
