Messy Quotes

“My hair had grown out long and shaggy—not in that sexy-young-rock-star kind of way but in that time-to-take-Rover-to-the-groomer kind of way.”
― Jim Butcher, White Night

“I'll be your mess, you be mine
That was the deal that we had signed”
― Gayle Forman, Where She Went

“Emotions are messy.”
― Ottilie Weber, Family Ties

“Neatness, madam, has nothing to do with the truth. The truth is quite messy, like a wind blown room.”
― William J. Harris

“Things look familiar: the high shelves full of books, jars of green tea, dried flowers—also for tea, big rocks, and crystals that emit strong prana and light. The light trapped inside the crystals makes them brighter, stunning against the dark background of the wooden floor and ceiling.”
― Misba, The Oldest Dance

“His hair had clearly been up all night having adventures without him.”
― Rachel Hartman, Tess of the Road

“I think there’s something very healthy about keeping your own cave clean. It is a good barometer of how your life is going, the state of your home. If it’s a complete tip, you’re taking on too much or depressed; if someone else has to keep it clean for you, it’s too big or you’re too busy.”
― Viv Albertine, Clothes, Clothes, Clothes. Music, Music, Music. Boys, Boys, Boys

“Living is messy.”
― Traci Chee, The Speaker

“If you walk into a woman's apartment and nothing's out of place, you know she's not going to want to stay in bed all day and order in Chinese food and eat it in bed. She's going to make you get up and eat toast at the kitchen table.”
― Candace Bushnell, Sex and the City

“I wish I was one of those people who clean as they go, who are models of organization and clarity, but I'm just not. If I find myself with a piece of paper in my hand, and I'm unsure where to put it, I lay it down on the nearest surface and hope it folds itself into a paper plane and flies wherever it's supposed to go.”
― Abbi Waxman, The Garden of Small Beginnings

“I am flawed, scarred and a beautiful mess.”
― Lisa C. Miller, Nightly Inspirations from the Heart of God

“The jangle of the telephone rousted Matt out of a deep sleep. He never dreamed. Dreams were too messy.”
― Peggy Webb, The Mona Lucy

“Your home is full of joy, Sadie. And joy isn’t neat.”
― Nathan Lowell, Ravenwood

“If you consider yourself a credible person, when a lie reaches you, that’s where the fallacy should end.”
― Carlos Wallace

“He munches a sandwich so messily that you can't help wondering if he's actually misunderstood the whole concept of eating.”
― Fredrik Backman, Beartown

“I’m not on my way anywhere, Harry sometimes tells inquirers. How to explain, in a culture frantic for resolution, that sometimes the shit stays messy?”
― Maggie Nelson, The Argonauts

“A short while later, they were all covered in flour.
"Anna, do you have to use so much flour?" her mother asked, waving a cloud of dust away from her face.
"I hate when the cookies stick, Ma, you know that." Anna sifted more flour onto the wooden table that doubled as a workspace. She loved flour and she used it liberally, but it did make cleanup much harder.
The bakery wasn't large and it wasn't bright; the windows were high up, just below the ceiling eaves. Anna had to squint to see her measurements. Spoons and pots hung on the walls, and the large wooden table stood in the middle of the room, where Anna and her mom baked bread, cinnamon rolls, and Anna's famous cookies. The majority of the bakery was taken up by the cast-iron stove. It was as beautiful as it was functional, and Anna was constantly tripping over it- or falling into it, hence the small burn marks on her forearms. Those also came from paddling the bread into and out of the oven. Her parents said she was the best at knowing when the temperature of the stove was just right for baking the softest bread. Maybe she was a little messy when she baked, but it didn't bother her.”
― Jen Calonita, Conceal, Don't Feel

“We all yearn for transformation but the current cultural conversation leads us to believe it is this incredibly positive and desirable experience. It makes it sound easy. But the truth is, transformation is slow, messy, difficult and almost always painful.”
― Natalie M. Esparza, Spectacle: Discover a Vibrant Life through the Lens of Curiosity

“Only a good player knows... what it takes to reach there...”
― Bhawna Dehariya

“People worry about people they love." His fingers tapped the keys. "They love each other, and love" --the line creased his forehead-- "it's pretty messy sometimes.”
― Shelley Coriell, Welcome, Caller, This Is Chloe

“What we have seen does not sit comfortably with conventional views of the brain. Electrophysiology has been a powerful tool and its returns have permeated our thinking about how the brain works, but the resulting understanding is cursed by overinterpretation. Because spike activity appears to have so much capacity for encoding information, we are tempted to think it in fact conveys a huge volume of information. When we find, in the spike activity of some neuron or another, correlation between some facet and some particular external events, it is tempting to think this is the message the cell is conveying.
A message is only a message if it can be understood by its recipient. Neurons can't decipher long and complex sentences. They have a short attention span, are easily distracted, and much of the time they aren't even listening. A neuron that is quiet at a particular time is likely also to be less sensitive to an input; a cell that is very active might be saturated; and a cell recently activated might be refractory to further activation.
Spike activity is not the output of any neuron, only one of several means by which some of its chemical signals are generated. These signals are generated unreliably and erratically and are recognized imperfectly by their targets. The message carried by the spike activity of a vasopressin cell makes no sense when considered alone. The important signal is generated by a cacophony of noisy and messy cells, and the miracle that demands to be recognized is that this population response is indeed clean, refined and fit for purpose.”
― Gareth Leng, The Heart of the Brain: The Hypothalamus and Its Hormones

“Neat rooms are much like one-dimensional characters—they remain static, unchanging. They lack depth. Nowthisreminds me of a dynamic character—much more personality!”
― Gina Marinello-Sweeney, Peter

“There is but one peacemaker: the Prince of Peace. He is a revolutionary: His teachings run counter to the prevailing assertion that the “other” must change. He quietly asks me to see myself as I am: messy, fallen, sinful. He gently invites me to change. Then He enables me to become, in Him, what I cannot become in and of myself. As He changes me, I experience His peace. As he changes me, I begin to understand that the “other” is my brother. As He changes me, I desire to love and serve my brother. These changes He enables in me transform me from trouble-maker to peace-maker. It is through the Prince of Peace – and through Him only – that I experience peace and become a peaceful man.”
― Jean-Michel Hansen

“And the crumble today is rhubarb-apple." She then turned to me. "I'll give you a minute to decide," she smiled, walking off to the kitchen.
I lingered at the table, eyeing the golden brown topping of the crumble, clattering tea cups and intimate conversations dancing in the background. It was similar to Make My Cake's cobbler in that it was a giant dish of oozing fruit concealed by bits of topping- exactly what I had come for. Yet it was unmistakably French. While it was indeed messier than thegâteauxI had fallen for elsewhere around Paris, Les Deux Abeilles's crumble, presented in a round white porcelain dish, was still more refined. It looked thick and sweet and crunchy. I could practically taste the buttery bits and jammy fruit converging in a chaotic mix of flavors and textures in my mouth.
But now that pear-pralineclafoutiswas waving to me from heaven. And the tall, airy wisps on the lemon meringue were tempting me, as well as the towering cheesecake, fluffier than the versions back home, with more finesse. Molten chocolate cake is never the wrong choice, I was rationalizing to myself, when Valeria returned. "Alors,what will it be? "
I gazed up at her comforting presence. "I'll take the crumble, please."
After my laborious decision, I was relieved to discover I had been right to stick with my original intentions. Five minutes later, a generous slice of rhubarb-apple crumble arrived, warmed in the small kitchen and served with a side of fresh cream, whipped staunchly into a thick, puffy cloud. I sat for a minute, contemplating the crumble's imperfect bumps and dull brown color. The pale pink and sometimes green slices of rhubarb poked out of the sides and lumps of rouge topping decorated my plate. Where the crumble had baked against the dish, a sticky crust of caramelized fruit juice and sugar had formed. It looked like a tarte that had done a somersault in its pastry box and arrived bruised and battered. There was nothing perfect about it. Except its bright flavors. Except its comforting warmth. Except that it was exactly what I wanted and needed. I savored each juicy-crunchy bite. It was wonderful.”
― Amy Thomas, Paris, My Sweet: A Year in the City of Light

“For a moment—not even a moment, a split second—I imagine him saying, “The truth is, I’m desperately attracted to you.” And then I imagine myself spitting in his face. And then I imagine licking it off his cheek and kissing him. (Because I’m disturbed. Ask anyone.)”
― Rainbow Rowell, Carry On

“A cramped garage is difficult to maneuver our way through. Many of us are adept at the Garage Shimmy, a dance step whereby we squeeze out of our car door and then sidestep the stuff in our garage to get to the entrance to our home. If we're skilled enough at this balletic wiggling, we might keep our clothes from getting smudged by brushing against the side of a dirty car.”
― Joshua Becker, The Minimalist Home: A Room-by-Room Guide to a Decluttered, Refocused Life

“I’m afraid that my ideas leap forth without much time for collecting them all in one place. Just don’t trip over any artifacts.”
― Gina Marinello-Sweeney, Peter

“Our reflection in the window isn’t clear. It’s messy and muddled, but it’s perfect.”
― Catrina Bell, Beastly & Bookish

“He thought you were real until he met the realest. That's why he doesn't eff with you like that anymore. We aren't talking about anyone's boyfriend. We are talking about that man who thought you were his friend until he met a friend. Stop being a messy bird.”
― Niedria D. Kenny

“...the messy, dead and decaying things of our natural lives, can... if the truth be told, transform into something new and beautiful.”
― AshRawArt