Quotes About Discontent

Cada día el mundo se vuelve más egoísta y feo. Hay odio entre las personas, entre las clases, entre los pueblos; porque todo el mundo está buscando encontrar bienes materiales, la posesión de la cual no es nada

Revolutions are always verbose.

He hated the men floating in sleep in the big stone houses. Because their lives were ordered and their rooms tidy. Because they got up every morning and did their public work. Because they weren't going to dynamite their factories and have naked parties in the fire.

It was one of those situations in which Mr Teal habitually felt himself drowning in the turgid waters of an unfathomable Weltschmerz. He glowered at Simon

All of it just confirmed his belief that his real life, the life he should be living, had been mislaid through some clerical error by the cosmic bureaucracy. This couldn't be it. It had been diverted elsewhere, to somebody else, and he'd been issued this shitty substitute faux life instead

But walking along Fifth Avenue in Brooklyn, in his black overcoat and his gray interview suit, Quentin knew he wasn't happy. Why not? He had painstakingly assembled all the ingredients of happiness. He had performed all the necessary rituals, spoken the words, lit the candles, made the sacrifices. But happiness, like a disobedient spirit, refused to come. He couldn't think what else to do.

For a punk Penny could be an unbelievable drag.

He could have eked out his sad wasted life with movies and books and masturbation and alcohol like everybody else. He would never have known the horror of really getting what he thought he wanted.

Quentin knew he wasn't happy. Why not? He had painstakingly assembled all the ingredients of happiness. He had performed all the necessary rituals, spoken the words, lit the candles, made the sacrifices. But happiness, like a disobedient spirit, refused to come. He couldn't think what else to do.

He wasn't happy. Why not? He had painstakingly assembled all the ingredients of happiness. He had performed all the necessary rituals, spoken the words, lit the candles, made the sacrifices. But happiness, like a disobedient spirit, refused to come.

Well, okay, then know this." Janet put her hands on her hips. She had struck an unexpected vein of bitterness in herself, and it was running away with her. "We human beings are unhappy all the time. We hate ourselves and we hate each other and sometimes we wish You or Whoever had never created us or this shit-ass world or any other shit-ass world. Do You realize that? So next time You might think about not doing such a half-assed job.

suit, Quentin knew he wasn't happy. Why not? He had painstakingly assembled all the ingredients of happiness. He had performed all the necessary rituals, spoken the words, lit the candles, made the sacrifices. But happiness, like a disobedient spirit, refused to come. He couldn't think what else to do.

Lactose intolerant milk?! KISS, MY, DICK!

Those serpents! There's no pleasing them!

By his very success in inventing labor-saving devices, modern man has manufactured an abyss of boredom that only the privileged classes in earlier civilizations have ever fathomed.

Life is hard and astonishingly complicated.... No one great reform will make it easy. Most of us who work -- or want to work -- will always have trouble or discontent. So we must learn to be calm, and train all our faculties, and make others happy.

I am not disgruntled. I am frustrated at a lack of leadership. I am frustrated at a lack of urgency to get a head start on developing lifesaving tools for Americans. I'm frustrated at our inability to be heard as scientists. Those things frustrate me.

Few of us can stand prosperity. Another man's, I mean.

Boredom or discontent is useful to me when I acknowledge it and see clearly my assumption that there's something else I would rather be doing.

I'm sick and tired of politics and politicians as usual.

I get bored of vacation.

I hate vacations. There's nothing to do.

Those that can be troubled to muse upon the meaning of life are generally disappointed when they figure it out.

Recuerdo el primer día que la llevé a mi casa. Mientras yo forcejeaba con la cerradura del portal dijo: —Menuda mierda de ciudad. Le pregunté por qué. —Mira —dijo y, con una mueca de asco infinito, señaló una placa que anunciaba: «Avinguda Lluís Pericot. Prehistoriador»Ã¢â'¬â€. Podían haberle puesto a la calle el nombre de alguien que por lo menos hubiera terminado la carrera, ¿no?