Quotes About Ennui

There is mercy for everyone, except those who are bored with life.

Nothing is as tedious as the limping days, When snowdrifts yearly cover all the ways, And ennui, sour fruit of incurious gloom, Assumes control of fate's immortal loom

Body and mind both unemployed, our being becomes a burthen, and every object about us loathsome, even the dearest. Idleness begets ennui, ennui the hypochondria, and that a diseased body.

boredom is the coldest thing in the world.

im fucking bored

the Ennui predator.

There is a pointlessness of summer London more awful than anything which fogs or early afternoon twilights are able to evoke, a summer mood of yawning and glazing eyes and little nightmare-ridden sleeps in bored and desperate rooms. With this ennui, evil comes creeping through the city, the evil of indifference and sleepiness and lack of care. At such a time the long-fought temptation is wearily yielded to, and the long-dreamt-of crime is with shoulder-shrugging casualness committed at last.

It had been his fate not to be interested in anything except everything.

Pain, indolence, sterility, endless ennui have also their lesson for you.

He is an old bore; even the grave yawns for him.

The inexorable boredom that is at the core of life.

The basic fact about human existence is not that it is a tragedy, but that it is a bore.

Boredom is a sickness of the soul.

The only unhappiness is a life of boredom.

One can be bored until boredom becomes a mystical experience.

Passions are less mischievous than boredom, for passions tend to diminish and boredom increase.

Life is as tedious as a twice-told tale, vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man.

Boredom slays more of existence than war.

I had neglected to provide myself with books, and as we crept along at the dull rate of four miles per hour, I soon felt the foul fiend Ennui coming upon me

There was never anything wrong with my life. Perhaps that was the problem... The crack in my life was the fact that I had everything I wanted, or could ever want—and when you have it all, boredom grows like a fungus, coating everything you own and everything you feel.

Was there ever a time when people weren't plagued with boredom? A time when motivation wasn't so hard to come by?

C'est l'Ennui! —l'Å"il chargé d'un pleur involontaire, Il rêve d'échafauds en fumant son houka. Tu le connais, lecteur, ce monstre délicat, —Hypocrite lecteur,—mon semblable,—mon frère!

He sadly resumes his path toward a desert that he knows is similar to the one he just crossed, escorted by the pale phantom they call Reason, who lights up the aridity of his path with a weak lantern, and who, when the thirst of passion comes back from time to time, quenches it with the poison of ennui.

Une oasis d'horreur dans un désert d'ennui !