Nobody knows what I’m going to do.

I learned that the time to make up my mind about what is possible is never.

If you cannot decide, the answer is no.

If you can't decide, the answer is No.

I am unable to make any decision at this time,

Don't worry. They're all against me. But I have one advantage: they don't know what they want. I do.

He never knows whether they want him for what he can do for them now — or will do for them later.

We never know which lives we influence, or when, or why.

Nobody smart knows what they want to do until they get into their twenties or thirties.

The people. They know how to know, but not how to choose.

I cannot discover that anyone knows enough to say definitely what is and what is not possible.

Anyone can see what the position is. The Government simply cannot make up their mind, or they cannot get the Prime Minister to make up his mind. So they go on in strange paradox, decided only to be undecided, resolved to be irresolute, adamant for drift, solid for fluidity, all powerful to be impotent. So we go on preparing more months and years — precious, perhaps vital to the greatness of Britain — for the locusts to eat.

Tillerson said, and the floodgates gushed open. “The president can’t make a decision. He doesn’t know how to make a decision.

I can't tell who's leading— it's either Oxford or Cambridge.