Quotes About Disillusionment

Es gibt tatsächlich Weiber, die uns die Rosen ihrer Reize durch die Dornen ihrer anmaßlichen Dummheit verleiden, so dass gar keiner mehr danach greifen mag.

I am not Hamlet. I don't play a role anymore. My words have nothing more to tell me. My thoughts suck the blood out of the images. My drama is cancelled. Behind me the set is being built. By people my drama doesn't interest, for people it doesn't concern. It doesn't interest me anymore either. I won't play along anymore.

When I was an undergraduate we were told that history had ended, and we all believed it. When the Berlin Wall fell, what history was made of was over. No more Cold War. No more wars. And yet here it was, and is and all of it falling apart. Endings. Worlds dissolving. Weather systems, baking systems, the careful plans of municipal gardeners. Families, hearts, lives.

We deceive ourselves a good deal about love. It is almost never what they say it is.

Everything I touch seems destined to turn into something mean and farcical.

Nagging questions remain Where is the line between making the most of one's potential and reaching for the unattainable Where is the line between education as a tool and education as a kind of magic The line is blurred and that is why when education fails, disillusionment is so bitter.

How often, when I have told you that all men are false and perjury alike, and grow tired of us as soon as ever they have had their wicked wills of us, how often have you sworn you would never forsake me?

If this was love, love had been overrated.

There is nothing like being told to go fuck yourself by the same person who was, only days before, praying on your behalf.

You try to find a special person Someone you can be with Someone you can touch Someone you can talk to Someone you won't feel so strange around You found that they don't really exist

I know why Kurtz went up river. He was tired of all the weak fucks that populate the streets of every city in the world.

One morning, he woke up and all he could think of was that he had been destroyed by his parents and it was too late to change. They had taken him like a con man takes a drunk sailor. He had believed too much. It was the grind that finally got to him.

Spring, love, happiness! Are you not weary of that stupid, meaningless, constantly repeated fraud? Always the same and always a fraud! There is no spring, no sun, no happiness!

I turned my attention to every­ thing that was done by people who claimed to be Christians, I was horrified.

And I, too, am the same… only there is no love in my heart, or desire for love, no interest in work, not contentment in myself. And how remote and impossible my old religious enthusiasms seem now… and my former abounding life! What once seemed so plain and right – that happiness lay in living for others – is unintelligible now. Why live for others, when life has not attractions even for oneself?

But it was not only by this feeling, as Varvara thought, that he was guided. Mingling with his pride, with his need always to be first, was another motive, at which Varvara did not guess - a truly religious urge. His disillusionment in Mary (his betrothed), whom he had imagined such a saint, his feeling of outrage was so cruel that he sank into despair; and despair led him - whither? To God, to the faith of his childhood, which had never lost its hold upon him.

At the point where he, today's Ivan Ilyich, began to emerge, all the pleasures that had seemed so real melted away now before his eyes and turned into something trivial and often disgusting. And the further he was from childhood, the nearer he got to the present day, the more trivial and dubious his pleasures appeared.

Everything within him and around him seemed confused, senseless, and loathsome. But in this very loathing for everything around him, Pierre took a sort of irritating pleasure.

Everything presents itself to me, in the coarsest, most loathsome light.

So the great affair is over but whoever would have guessed it would leave us all so vacant and so deeply unimpressed It's like our visit to the moon or to that other star I guess you go for nothing if you really want to go that far.

Lei non crede in niente - disse il professore. - Oh sì, in qualche cosa. Forse in troppe, per i tempi che corrono.

Ma le cose, dentro di noi, sono sempre maledettamente complicate; e tanto più inganniamo noi stessi, o tentiamo, quanto più evidente e immediato si prospetta il disinganno.

When parents, in the belief that they are doing the right thing, trample underfoot some ideal that lies latent in the heart of their child they cause, more often than not, to germinate in its place disillusionment, hatred, vice; it is fortunate indeed if the existence thus turned awry does not degrade into a life of crime, instead of one of calm content and universal respect.

Do you remember when you found out there was no Santa Claus? I was so upset I didn't think I'd be able to do the show.