Quotes About Disillusionment

I'm a member of the 1960s generation. We didn't have any wisdom.

In the 1960s, I was convinced that the world was extremely mentally ill.

A lot of these dudes in metal, they're just mad at the world because, like... who even knows?

I hate most of what constitutes rock music, which is basically middle-aged crap.

For a long time I wanted to do the kind of work my dad did. He was going to ask his foreman at the mill to put me on after I graduated. So I worked at the mill for about six months. But I hated the work and knew from the first day I didn't want to do that for the rest of my life.

I remember coming out of college thinking, 'OK, I'm gonna get an agent, and I'm gonna make money. I'm gonna make millions of dollars.' And that never happened.

He abhorred people who said things that hadn't been thought through, thus he abhorred almost all mankind.

Hate him she did not quite; but he was dust and ashes to her...

The cruelty of fooled honesty is often great after enlightenment.

Tess shrank into herself as if she had been struck. Often enough had he tried to reach those lips against her consent—often had he said gaily that her mouth and breath tasted of the butter and eggs and milk and honey on which she mainly lived, that he drew sustenance from them, and other follies of that sort. But he did not care for them now.

That was where Graham lost his faith in .38's.

Comprendes ahora por qué nosotros, los poetas, no podemos ser sabios ni dignos? ¿Comprendes por qué tenemos que extraviarnos necesariamente, y ser siempre disolutos, aventureros del sentimiento? La maestría de nuestro estilo es mentira e insensatez; nuestra gloria y honorabilidad, una farsa; la confianza de la multitud en nosotros, el colmo del ridículo.

You trusted people until they betrayed you, but the alternative, trusting nobody ever, turned you into one more Clive Crouchmas, and the world had enough of them already.

Any life lived attentively is disillusioning as it forces us to know us as we are.

The idea that there's someone for everyone is mathematically impossible. I found my Mr Right and he ended up being a Right Bastard. As did yours.

Chuck had to come up to Johnnie's mark. He'd been playing with slouches for years, with the cheapest band in town, just going in and out with a briefcase. To a musician, playing below your mark is soul destroying, and he had been doing that for ages, to the point where he was completely cynical about the music.

Mrs. Vice turned to the weddings page. She liked to look at the smiling brides and imagine how miserable they would soon be.

In 1969 Billy Casper was going into a job he didn't want. Today he'd be lucky to get a part-time casual job in a far more hostile world. Maybe we should ask what went wrong.

Misunderstanding the process is why many people become disillusioned and think they are not creative.

They say disillusionment is a huge step in a person's spiritual growth, especially when it involves disillusionment with a false view of one's self as someone who doesn't make big mistakes

walk out to the middle of the road and look both ways, trying to determine in which direction town might be. To the left, nothing but dry fields. To the right, the same. No shade, no life. Just the blazing Kenyan sun in front, and behind me, at the hotel, a cruel pantomime of Africa played out in blackface, replete with rich, tanned Euro-travelers demanding afternoon cocktails from illiterate Kenyan waiters in bow ties and white jackets.

I sipped my own, knowing again that everything in the world was ashes. Cold, and spent, and not quite worth the effort.

I got the fat poet into a corner and told him he was writing shit and couldn't get away with it Now it is night and time for sleep. Everyone is tired from garbage-glutting lifting their snouts from the trough long enough to ease their gut— I won't urge the point. Gold-plated poems to stuff up their mind's ass or politics watered down so as not to scare the blue bloods Boo! you well-fed bastards

What she was coming to realize, but what no woman was allowed to utter aloud, was that there was no guarantee your child would be adequate compensation for the life you gave up to have it. More and more, life looked an awful lot like a hoax perpetrated on women and designated to further men's lives at the expense of their own.