I Can't Explain Myself Quotes & Sayings
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I guess I can call myself a pragmatist with a conservative perspective. It would be hard for me to explain this, but I always take realities of today, lessons from the distant and recent past into consideration. — Vladimir Putin

Almost every day I can feel myself suffering mainly in the head, I can explain the pain to myself but knowing it comes from an inflammation of my imagination doesn't prevent it being reality itself. What's more I'd be crazy not to go crazy. We don't know what an illness is. On awful hurts we plaster little old words, as if we could think hell with a paper bandage. — Helene Cixous

I try to think as little as possible, at least while working. I look at some of my early stories and can see the machination behind them, like a gear slowly moving. For example, sticking a dead father into the story to explain a character's sadness and bad decisions, or trying to impress myself with my own cleverness. — Mary J. Miller

Why do I do anything?' she says. 'I'm educated enough to talk myself out of any plan. To deconstruct any fantasy. Explain away any goal. I'm so smart I can negate any dream. — Chuck Palahniuk

I suppose I'm always trying to break down the wall between my characters and myself. I'm trying to make the film as expressive and personal as I can, even if I can't explain, for example, how important it is for me to be Jewish. — James Gray

Am your faithful slave and to you alone I can confess that my children are the bane of my life. It is the cross I have to bear. That is how I explain it to myself. It can't be helped! He said no more, but expressed his — Leo Tolstoy

I keep letting you back in. How can I explain myself? As painful as this thing has been, I just can't be with no one else. — Lauryn Hill

The world will break your heart ten ways to Sunday, that's guaranteed.
And I can't begin to explain that- or the craziness inside myself and everybdy else,but guess what? Sunday is my fav day again — Matthew Quick

Don't be too anxious on my account. I have but one wish - to be in good health; the tedium is a passing matter, and cheerfulness depends in the last resort upon myself. Human beings have an incredible amount of endurance and will to live; I should never have expected to find so much in myself; now I know it from experience. Farewell! I hope that these few lines will give you much pleasure. Greet every one you see whom I have known - forget no one. I have not forgotten anybody. What can the children be thinking of me, and how do they explain to themselves my disappearance ? Farewell. — Fyodor Dostoyevsky

God knows suffering, not because he created it, but because He experiences it with us ... It is also true that although God knows suffering, He doesn't explain it. I waited and searched and beat myself up for that, and I know now that it just flat-out doesn't happen. God only walks us through it and out into a place where we can once again be free. He does this not because we believe some rigid this or that about Him. He does it because He believes in us. He doesn't ask us to go out into the world telling people why they suffer. Even if we knew why, it wouldn't hurt any less. What we need to know is how to help each other live with it, and live well. — Nancy Rue

I just feel so guilty." Her stinging eyes burned with fresh tears. "I don't know why I can't ... I can't..."
"Make love to him?"
She nodded.
"Let him see you?"
She nodded again, tears sliding down her face. She mopped them up with the wet tissue she'd wadded in her fist.
"Are you scared he won't love you anymore, after he's seen how you look now?" her dad asked gently.
"No."
"Are you scared he won't be attracted to you anymore? That he won't want to be your lover?"
"No."
"What are you scared of, Vanka?"
"I don't feel the same way about myself, now. I don't even know how to explain it. I'm not ashamed. I don't feel ugly. But the way I was, who I was when we ... when we fell in love, I'm not that person, now."
"You're not in love with him anymore?"
"I am," her voice broke on a sob. "So in love. Like I never knew it could be. I thought I loved David. I thought I loved Mark. But, god, Dad, the way I love Galen... — Varian Krylov

Vocation at its deepest level is, This is something I can't not do, for reasons I'm unable to explain to anyone else and don't fully understand myself but that are nonetheless compelling. — Parker J. Palmer

I do it because I can't seem to live with myself if I do not. I don't know any other way to be. It isn't something you can explain; it is just something that you do; it is something that you are. — Martin Sheen

Pictures form and dissolve in my head:
we are walking in a city
you fled, came back to and come back to still
which I saw once through winter frost
years back, before I knew you,
before I knew myself.
We are walking streets you have by heart from childhood
streets you have graven and erased in dreams:
scrolled portals, trees, nineteenth century statues.
We are holding hands so I can see
everything as you see it
I follow you into your dreams
your past, the places
none of us can explain to anyone. — Adrienne Rich

It's odd, then, that in my twenties, despite my devotion to urbanity, I often found myself wrestling with a curiosity about country living that seemed strangely akin to a homophobic person "struggling with same-sex attraction." As much as I wanted to be a creature of the city, as much as I'd organized my entire life around the overpriced, undersized vagaries of Manhattan living, I sometimes found myself wanting desperately to live on a farm, or at least near one. I can't explain this by way of any rational desire; — Meghan Daum

Much of the day I have busied myself making notes on the small parts in Shakespeare, often nameless, which are rewarding to the actor if only he'll not dismiss them as beneath his dignity. If I can work it up into a talk I might call it, 'Only a cough and a spit ' -the phrase so often used by actors to explain away a lack of opportunity. — Alec Guinness

I shake my head. He doesn't understand. The same face that once pulled me in still holds that magnetism, but it's closely netted with despise. This mix of love and hate, this blend of trust and hurt I have for him is so confusing even I can't understand it. How do you explain to someone you love that you are repulsed by the thought of wanting them? I can't even begin to comprehend it myself. — Tammy Faith

Music makes me forget myself, my real position; it transports me to some other position not my own. Under the influence of music it seems to me that I feel what I do not really feel, that I understand what I do not understand, that I can do what I cannot do. I explain it by the fact that music acts like yawning, like laughter: I am not sleepy, but I yawn when I see someone yawning; there is nothing for me to laugh at, but I laugh when I hear people laughing.
Music carries me immediately and directly into the mental condition in which the man was who composed it. My soul merges with his and together with him I pass from one condition into another, but why this happens I don't know. — Leo Tolstoy

My life is full of unconventionalities, abnormalities and awkward fucking situations. If you're easily offended by crude language and inappropriate talks, you've taken a wrong fucking turn somewhere. You won't understand me if you can't handle me, and I'm not going to try to explain myself. I'm raw. I'm hard. I'm the thing you shy away from. So I'm warning you now. Back away. Because once you enter my life, I won't ever let you leave. — Krista Ritchie

All this was very loose guessing, and I don't pretend it was ingenious or scientific. I wasn't any kind of Sherlock Holmes. But I have always fancied I had a kind of instinct about questions like this. I don't know if I can explain myself, but I used to use my brains as far as they went, and after they came to a blank wall I guessed, and I usually found my guesses pretty right. — John Buchan

I let my hands brush over his chest and paid close attention to his nipples before spying the pool of semen on his belly. A need I couldn't explain went through me and I found myself pulling my aching dick from the depths of his body. I felt Dante's eyes on me as I shifted over him. I maneuvered my cock so I could rub it in his cum, drenching the crown in the cooling, sticky fluid. I gathered the rest of it as best I could with my shaft and then levered back on my heels. Dante's pretty hole was open and waiting and I didn't even think twice before pushing back inside of him. He gasped and I looked up to see him watching me with a mix of shock and wonder. He clearly hadn't been expecting the move. I thrust into him hard and then dropped my body down on his. "What you do to me," I murmured. "I can't fucking get enough of you." Dante's — Sloane Kennedy

I can't explain it too well. I picture myself being completely in tune with you. I breathe when you breathe. My heart beats when yours beats. I can time them perfectly to each other and then I just...slow it all down. It's really very easy." ~ Garreth — Jennifer Murgia

I don't even understand it myself. Almost every myth references love, betrayal. Heartbreak. Universal truths that I've read a thousand times but still can't comprehend. No story can explain this pain that feels too big for my body. — Skye Warren

Instead of trying to hold on, to push myself into this force, I let go. And I fall into what I can't explain, into a sensation that is everything and nothing, light and dark, hot and cold, alive and dead. Soon the power is the only thing in my head, blotting out all my ghosts and memories. — Victoria Aveyard

There is a curious paradox that no one can explain. Who understands the secret of the reaping of the grain? Who understands why Spring is born out of Winter's laboring pain, or why we must all die a bit before we grow again? I do not know the answer; I merely know it's true. I hurt them for that reason, and myself a little bit too. — Tom Jones

I wish she had half a clue what seeing that happy face does for me. I can't quite explain it to myself, but I really wish she could know. It's like when she does it, it's all I can see and I want more of it. Especially after the day we've had. I always want her making happy faces. — Melyssa Winchester

However, this court is constrained by law, and under the law, I can only conclude that the Government has not violated FOIA by refusing to turn over the documents sought in the FOIA requests, and so cannot be compelled by this court of law to explain in detail the reasons why its actions do not violate the Constitution and the laws of the United States. The Alice-in-Wonderland nature of this pronouncement is not lost on me; but after careful and extensive consideration, I find myself stuck in a paradoxical situation in which I cannot solve a problem because of contradictory constraints and rules - a veritable Catch-22. I can find no way around the thicket of laws and precedents that effectively allow the Executive Branch of our Government to proclaim as perfectly lawful certain actions that seem on their face incompatible with our Constitution and laws, while keeping the reasons for their conclusion a secret. — Colleen McMahon

I'm a wise Latina woman. Whatever, man. Thank God I'm not in politics, because the fact that you have to explain everything - I'd kill myself. I can't take all those little things they dissect. I'm like, 'Oh my God, get a life.' I don't have time for this. — Justina Machado

My twin, Go. I've said this phrase so many times, it has become a reassuring mantra instead of actual words: Mytwingo. We were born in the '70s, back when twins were rare, a bit magical: cousins of the unicorn, siblings of the elves. We even have a dash of twin telepathy. Go is truly the one person in the entire world I am totally myself with. I don't feel the need to explain my actions to her. I don't clarify, I don't doubt, I don't worry. I don't tell her everything, not anymore, but I tell her more than anyone else, by far. I tell her as much as I can. We spent nine months back to back, covering each other. It became a lifelong habit. It never mattered to me that she was a girl, strange for a deeply self-conscious kid. What can I say? She was always just cool. — Gillian Flynn

No matter what I study, I can see patterns. I see the gestalt, the melody within the notes, in everything: mathematics and science, art and music, psychology and sociology. As I read the texts, I can think only that the authors are plodding along from one point to the next, groping for connections that they can't see. They're like a crowd of people unable to read music, peering at the score for a Bach sonata, trying to explain how one note leads to another. As glorious as these patterns are, they also whet my appetite for more. There are other patterns waiting to be discovered, gestalts of another scale entirely. With respect to those, I'm blind myself; all my sonatas are just isolated data points by comparison. I have no idea what form such gestalts might assume, but that'll come in time. I want to find them, and comprehend them. I want this more than anything I've ever wanted before. The — Ted Chiang

Lamar is just Lamar. My teammates probably can explain that a little better than I can. If I just go out there and do what I do and be myself, it shouldn't be a problem. — Lamar Odom

I don't have a great talent for explaining myself in acting because I can't explain it. — Elaine Stritch

Today's the day. The clock is ticking. I have been summoned to speak. I go before the committee with a chance to exonerate myself, to extricate, or at least explain the debacle that has become my life.
A statement, a simple speech, a song and dance that will set them straight, an incandescent incantation, a charming presentation, a shoe of sorts, the show of shows, it's the only chance I've got. My appeal must be appealing, not entirely revealing, tucking the tendency to be argumentative, artfully augmenting my audacity with the acuity of my observation and the alarming accuracy of my action. What can I possibly say or do? Act normal. — A.M. Homes

I was obsessed. I couldn't stop myself. It was not healthy, but I couldn't stop. I didn't feel like there was anything else in my life to stop for. We all have periods of our life when we're trapped doing something we hate and we develop habits that have nothing to do with our long-term goals to fill the downtime, right? I hope you identify with that idea. It's the only way I can explain becoming so emotionally invested in a video game that I would get in my car and drive around town sobbing if my internet went out. — Felicia Day

I cannot bear to look at a film that I made before 1990. Maybe 1985. There's no sense even trying to explain it. I really just can't watch myself. I see all the machinery at work and it just drives me nuts, so I don't look at anything. — Paul Newman

I'm lucky enough to have two different platforms to perform on - I do stand-up comedy, and I have 'SNL.' That's where I make my most controversial statements because I can explain myself and I'm in control of the microphone, as opposed to Twitter, where it's in the hands of the reader. — Michael Che

I always find myself pulled back into the fantasy genre, and I can't really explain it. — Nick Willing

How can I explain what I myself don't understand? — Richelle Mead

I'm afraid I can't explain myself. Because I am not myself, you see? — Lewis Carroll

The wonderful thing about maths is it's a totally logical subject, and a pathway has been marked out. I think a lot of these things can be crystallised in something quite essential, that people can get. If I can't explain it, I realise that's probably because I don't completely understand it myself. — Marcus Du Sautoy

As inexplicable as the accidents that set it off, our imagination is a crucial privilege. I've tried my whole life simply to accept the images that present themselves to me without trying to analyze them. I remember when we were shooting That Obscure Object of Desire in Seville and I suddenly found myself telling Fernando Rey, at the end of a scene, to pick up a big sack filled with tools lying on a bench, sling it over his shoulder, and walk away. The action was completely irrational, yet it seemed absolutely right to me. Still, I was worried about it, so I shot two versions of the scene: one with the sack, one without. But during the rushes the following day, the whole crew agreed that the scene was much better with the sack. Why? I can't explain it, and I don't enjoy rummaging around in the cliches of psychoanalysis. — Luis Bunuel

I am an eye. A mechanical eye. I, the machine, show you a world the way only I can see it. I free myself for today and forever from human immobility. I'm in constant movement. I approach and pull away from objects. I creep under them. I move alongside a running horse's mouth. I fall and rise with the falling and rising bodies. This is I, the machine, manoeuvring in the chaotic movements, recording one moment after another in the most complex combinations.
Freed from the boundaries of time and space. I co-ordinate any and all points of the universe, wherever I want them to be. My way leads towards the creation of a fresh perception of the world. Thus I explain in a new way the world unknown to you. - Dziga Vertov 1923 — John Berger

She cared. She gave a crap. When I lacked even the self-respect to keep myself alive, she dabbed my cuts and I fell back into being a son; I fell as easily as you fall into your pillow at night. And I didn't want it to end. That's the best way I can explain it. I knew it was impossible. But I didn't want it to end. — Mitch Albom

Much like our clever and curious heroine, I wasn't quite myself in the earlier tales." My gaze fell to the text on the page and Alice's answer to the Caterpillar's question of her identity: I'm afraid I can't explain myself, sir. Because I am not myself, you see? I gulped, the realization hitting me like a slap in the face. "You're the Caterpillar . . . hatched from a cocoon." Morpheus — A.G. Howard

I'm afraid of committing myself," she thought to herself.
"When you find your path, you must not be afraid. You need to have sufficient courage to make mistakes. Disappointment, defeat, and despair are the tools God uses to show us the way."
"Don't bother trying to explain your emotions. Live everything as intensely as you can and keep whatever you felt as a gift from God. The best way to destroy the bridge between the visible and invisible is by trying to explain your emotions."
"But how will I know who my Soulmate is?" Brida felt that this was one of the most important questions she had ever asked in her life.
"By taking risks" she said to Brida. ' By risking failure, disappointment, disillusion, but never ceasing in you search for Love. As long as you keep looking, you will triumph in the end."
Nothing is completely wrong. Even a broken watch is right twice a day. — Paulo Coelho

Attraction
The whites of his eyes
pull me like moons.
He smiles. I believe
his face. Already
my body slips down in the chair:
I recline on my side,
offering peeled grapes.
I can taste his tongue
in my mouth
whenever he speaks.
I suspect he lies.
But my body oils itself loose.
When he gets up to fix a drink
my legs like derricks
hoist me off the seat.
I am thirsty, it seams.
Already I see the seduction
far off in the distance
like a large tree
dwarfed by a rise
in the road.
I put away objections
as quietly as quilts.
Already I explain to myself
how marriages are broken--
accidentally, like arms or legs. — Enid Shomer

I am a sick man ... I am a spiteful man. I am an unpleasant man. I think my liver is diseased. However, I don't know beans about my disease, and I am not sure what is bothering me. I don't treat it and never have, though I respect medicine and doctors. Besides, I am extremely superstitious, let's say sufficiently so to respect medicine. (I am educated enough not to be superstitious, but I am.) No, I refuse to treat it out of spite. You probably will not understand that. Well, but I understand it. Of course I can't explain to you just whom I am annoying in this case by my spite. I am perfectly well aware that I cannot "get even" with the doctors by not consulting them. I know better than anyone that I thereby injure only myself and no one else. But still, if I don't treat it, its is out of spite. My liver is bad, well then
let it get even worse! — Fyodor Dostoyevsky

I think I just have this need to be a storyteller. That's why I wasn't a great dancer - I couldn't articulate a story. I was a better choreographer. I have the need to to just express myself in that way. I can't explain it. — Rosie Perez

It Does not Frighten Me To Leave This Life That My Only Son Left Five Years Ago, This Life That Insist We Bear Sorrow Upon Sorrow Long After We Can Bear No More. No I Believe I Shall Gladly Take My Leave When The Time Comes. What Frightens Me Is The Day God Summon Me Before Him And Asks. How Shall I Explain Myself To Him. What Will Be My Defense For Not Heeding His Commads. — Khaled Hosseini

I'm an eye. A mechanical eye. I, the machine, show you a world the way only I can see it. I free myself for today and forever from human immobility. I'm in constant movement. I approach and pull away from objects. I creep under them. I move alongside a running horse's mouth. I fall and rise with the falling and rising bodies. This is I, the machine, manoeuvring in the chaotic movements, recording one movement after another in the most complex combinations.
Freed from the boundaries of time and space, I co-ordinate any and all points of the universe, wherever I want them to be. My way leads towards the creation of a fresh perception of the world. Thus I explain in a new way the world unknown to you. — Dziga Vertov

Inevitably we construct ourselves. Let me explain. I enter this house and immediately I become what I have to become, what I can become: I construct myself. That is, I present myself to you in a form suitable to the relationship I wish to achieve with you. And, of course, you do the same with me. — Luigi Pirandello

I don't want to do this. I can't explain how badly I don't want to hurt Julian. But when has what I wanted ever mattered? My people need this. Eo sacrificed happiness and her life. I can sacrifice my wants. I can sacrifice this slender princeling. I can even sacrifice my soul.
I make the first move toward Julian.
"Darrow ... ," he murmurs.
Darrow was kind in Lykos.
I am not. I hate myself for it. I think I'm crying, because my vision is unclear. — Pierce Brown

I'm so sorry," she says, and she's wringing her hands, looking away from me. "I'm so, so sorry."
I notice what she's wearing.
It's a dark-green dress with fitted sleeves; a simple cut made of stretch cotton that clings to the soft curves of her figure. It complements the flecks of green in her eyes in a way I couldn't have anticipated. It's one of the many dresses I chose for her. I thought she might enjoy having something nice after being caged as an animal for so long. And I can't quite explain it, but it gives me a strange sense of pride to see her wearing something I picked out myself.
"I'm sorry," she says for the third time.
I'm again struck by how impossible it is that she's here. In my bedroom. Staring at me without my shirt on. Her hair is so long it falls to the middle of her back; I have to clench my fists against this unbidden need to run my hands through it. She's so beautiful. — Tahereh Mafi

I can't explain myself, I'm afraid, sir,' said Alice, 'Because I'm not myself you see. — Lewis Carroll

For now, oh my God, it is to You alone that I can talk, because nobody else will understand. I cannot bring any other man on this earth into the cloud where I dwell in Your light, that is, Your darkness, where I am lost and abashed. I cannot explain to any other man the anguish which is Your joy nor the loss which is the Possession of You, nor the distance from all things which is the arrival in You, nor the death which is the birth in You because I do not know anything about it myself and all I know is that I wish it were over - I wish it were begun. — Thomas Merton

Why are you studying Italian? So that - just in case Italy ever invades Ethiopia again, and is actually successful this time - you can brag about knowing a language that's spoken in two whole countries?
But I loved it. Every word was a singing sparrow, a magic trick, a truffle for me. I would slosh home through the rain after class, draw a hot bath, and lie there in the bubbles reading the Italian dictionary aloud to myself, taking my mind off my divorce pressures and my heartache. The words made me laugh in delight. I started referring to my cell phone as il mio telefonino ("my teensy little telephone") I became one of those annoying people who always say Ciao! Only I was extra annoying, since I would always explain where the word ciao comes from. — Elizabeth Gilbert

Well, papa, I sometimes wish you wouldn't explain things so much. I seem to understand you all the time you are preaching, but when I try the text afterwards by myself, I can't make anything of it, and I've forgotten every word you said about it." "Perhaps that is because you have no right to understand it." "I thought all Protestants had a right to understand every word of the Bible," she returned. "If they can, — George MacDonald

This compulsion to look back, to explain to myself, to others, why I did what I did - or, worse, to justify why I didn't do something else - is one of the most direct roads to depression we have. Our thoughts, emotions, and attitudes, according to Dr. Andrew Weil in his book Healthy Aging, are "key determinants of how we age." They can threaten the quality of time we bring to the present. — Joan D. Chittister

Alex smiled as the duke and Will began to scold her friends, causing Gavin to lean down and whisper in her ear, "I am happy to see you smiling again." She turned to him. "I remain vexed with you, my lord. I cannot believe you did not tell me about Montgrave!" "Alex, I will not argue with you. You can be angry if you need to be, but I almost lost you today and there are other things I would prefer to do than spar." "For example?" Alex asked. "For example." He wrapped his arms around her again, and her heart began to pound as he continued, "I'd prefer to remind myself that you are safe. And that you are mine." She smiled up at him. "I am yours, my lord. As much as you are mine." He clasped her to him, holding her tightly until a throat cleared from across the room, and Alex and Gavin remembered that they had an audience. "Blackmoor," the duke said, his casual tone belying his intent gaze, "perhaps you would like to explain exactly why your arms are wrapped around my daughter? — Sarah MacLean

To label myself is similar to thinking that I can come up with a single phrase to explain the universe. — Craig D. Lounsbrough

Neither can you explain yourself to me. Nor can I explain myself to you. You have your sadness and I have mine. — Avijeet Das

So ... It's just that I have a problem with voltage. I don't know how to explain it ... I often get the feeling I've got a button missing, you know, some knob for adjusting the volume. I always go too far to one extreme or the other. I can never find the right balance and whatever I take a fancy to - well, it always ends badly." She was surprised at herself. Why was she confiding in him like this? Slightly tipsy, maybe? "When I drink, I drink too much, when I smoke, I fuck myself up, when I love, I go out of my mind and when I work, it's into the ground. Dead. I don't know how to do things normally, quietly, I - — Anna Gavalda

There are some things about myself I can't explain to anyone. There are some things I don't understand at all. I can't tell what I think about things or what I'm after. I don't know what my strengths are or what I'm supposed to do about them. But if I start thinking about these things in too much detail the whole thing gets scary. And if I get scared I can only think about myself. I become really self-centered, and without meaning to, I hurt people. So I'm not such a wonderful human being. — Haruki Murakami