Quotes About Discontent

When I thought of how I'd been living, how I'd been approaching life, it was all so trite, so miserably pointless. Unimaginative middle-class rubbish, and I wanted to gather it all up and stuff it away in some drawer. Or else light it on fire and watch it go up in smoke (though what kind of smoke it would emit I had no idea).

Actually, I'm extremely dissatisfied with being who I am. It's nothing to do with my looks or abilities or status or any of that. It simply has to do with being me. The situation strikes me as grossly unfair.

It was spring break, so the theater was always packed with high schools students. It was an animal house. I wanted to burn the place down.

I look around me sometimes and I get sick to my stomach. Why the hell don't these bastards do something? I wonder. They don't do a fucking thing, and then they moan about it.

The real world—where I probably could never be happy, and never get anywhere.

It was just that, no matter where I found myself, I felt like there was a hole inside me, with the wind rushing through. I never felt satisfied. From the outside you wouldn't imagine I had any troubles.

When you are used to the kind of life of never getting anything you want, you stop knowing what it is you want.

He didn't want to read the newspaper or listen to the radio anymore. He didn't want to be a grown-up. There are some people who are just no good at it.

I'm not really satisfied with anything I have written to date.

I feel like I was born in the wrong time.

Certain things just rub me the wrong way.

I've tried repeatedly, but I just cannot sink my teeth into the WWE product.

Yeah, it's pretty hard not to be completely cynical these days.

The whole Valentine's thing is fine, but you don't back it up right next to the biggest gift-giving holiday of the year. Unbelievable. And we find it acceptable.

Where does discontent start? You are warm enough, but you shiver. You are fed, yet hunger gnaws you. You have been loved, but your yearning wanders in new fields. And to prod all these there's time, the Bastard Time.

I'm just part of a tradition of people who aren't pleased. I would never think anyone else who has the same attitude was getting it from me. I'd just think they're... sensible.

didn't belong to her. She said her car was missing a mirror and the trains were knackered, so she'd

In the United States today, we have more than our share of the nattering nabobs of negativism.

O foolish man that I then was, enduring impatiently the lot of man! I fretted then, sighed, wept, was distracted; had neither rest nor counsel. For I bore about a shattered and bleeding soul, impatient of being borne by me, yet where to repose it, I found not.

Sam Pickett, English teacher and former basketball coach at Willow Creek High School, scrounged for sleep in his tangled bed. He was thirty-six years old and he hadn't a clue as to who he was or what his life was about. He bore a wound he couldn't heal. He

But I don't really know where to go. I have no plans and no destination in mind - I feel I can't live in either of my two worlds...

Where are you flying off to?' inquired Viola, rather sulkily; few sights are more annoying when we feel lazy than that of somebody bounding upstairs.

The splendid rewards of life had marched by without sweeping him into their army of happily fulfilled beings;

Wanting more is just a recipe for heartache.