Quotes About Discontent

The eighty-five cent dinner tasted like a discarded mailbag and was served to me by a waiter who looked as if he would slug me for a quarter, cut my throat for six bits, and bury me at sea in a barrel of concrete for a dollar and a half, plus sales tax.

I was meeting the spitting boys today.

I needed a drink, I needed a lot of insurance, I needed a vacation, I needed a home in the country. What I had was a coat, a hat and a gun. I put them on and went out of the room.

creciente ira y el descontento entre los judíos.

I'm sick and tired of it, he said, It's the same all the time. 'These are my claws, so this is my cowslip. 'These are my teeth, so this is my burrow.' I'll tell you, if I ever get into the Owsla, I'll treat outskirters with a bit of decency.

I will tell you. This place stinks. This isn't iDEATH at all. This is just a figment of your imagination. All of you guys here are just a bunch of clucks, doing clucky things at your clucky iDEATH.

Life isn't all it's cracked up to be. Nothing is ever good enough the way it is.

He read books. He liked none of them. He searched their pages for Amy. She was not there. He went to parties. They bored him. He walked the streets, gazing into strangers' faces. Amy was not there. The world, in all its infinite wonder, bored him. He searched every room of his life for Amy. But Amy was not anywhere to be found.

disaffected—as if something had gone wrong

One of the most impressive facts about the paranoid style, in this connection, is that it represents an old and recurrent mode of expression in our public life which has frequently been linked with movements of suspicious discontent and whose content remains much the same even when it is adopted by men of distinctly different purposes. Our experience suggests too that, while it comes in waves of different intensity, it appears to be all but ineradicable.

Like all lotteries, it was an attempt to distract and dilute labor force discontent with irrational hope.

We may have spent years and considerable energy getting to the top of our profession, only to be struck by a bout of inner restlessness and the unshakable, unpalatable, and unwelcome conviction that our life no longer fits us and we must try to find a new one. Tempted to "ditch everything," we may fantasize running off to the South of France or the north of Africa.

He didn't really like travel, of course. He liked the idea of travel, and the memory of travel, but not travel itself.

Because at some point everyone wants to run away from their life. It's about the only thing human beings have in common

How come I can't make her happy, how come she can't make me happy? Simple: the atomic reaction you expect isn't taking place, the beam with which you are bombarding the particles is on the wrong wavelength.

She'd been imagining for the last fifteen or more years that if you disappeared, if you abandoned a wife and child, you did so for a better life: more happiness, more sex, more money, more of whatever was missing from your previous life.

I would find myself staring resentfully at people on buses merely going home at the end of their day. How could they sit there so idly and unknowingly, their indifferent profiles on display, when the world was about to be changed?

She feels sick. She hates this world.

I never really even tried. But if I'm not a New York actress, what am I? I'm a person who takes a subway from the outer boroughs to lower Manhattan office every morning, who spends her days answering phones and doing copying, who is too disconsolate when she gets back to her apartment at night to do anything but sit on the couch and stare vacantly at reality TV shows until she falls asleep. Oh Godm it really was true, wasn't it? I really was a secretary.

Often a hungry person will wolf down unpalatable food; but as his stomach swells, he'll suddenly notice how bad the food is and fell nauseated.

And so, one bit one's nails, unable to find contentment in the simple beating of one's heart... one smoked, unable to be satisfied with the rhythm of one's brain...

Por eso uno se roe las uñas en la imposibilidad de hallar la paz en el simple latido del corazón; consume cigarrillos porque no está satisfecho con el ritmo de su propio cerebro; uno tiene que hacer temblar su cuerpo al no encontrar la satisfacción tan sólo en el sexo.

Corpus bones, I thought. To be wedded to this perfumed prig with his mouth in a knot and a frown always on his face!

She couldn't stand them because she couldn't be more like them.