Quotes About Disappointment

He gripped the pages and told me they were all for me, about me, because of me. But when he was at the podium and I was in the first row, he never looked at me. When he read a poem about eating a peach on an overturned rowboat, the peach I'd brought, the rowboat where we'd sat together, he said it was for his mother, who loved peaches.

The fonder you are of your ideals, the greater your heartbreaks.

Expectations placed low enough are rarely disappointed.

They hung, like mirages, shimmering in the future, and the closer you got to them the more you expected them to disappear. When his mother had gone over to work in the States for the first time and his father was supposed to have been making a special effort, Mr. Schock had still managed to turn up at Sports Day after Peter's big race. There was always another meeting, another client, another urgent matter demanding his attention.

I was the girl whose face fell when she saw a wrapped present in the shape of a box, perhaps a jigsaw puzzle. Worst of all, that preparation for the future slave-house of motherhood, a doll. I only wanted book tokens or books themselves – but better a book token. The worst present is the book you don't want to read.

If you're looking for Mr. Perfect, you"re going to spend your whole life being disappointed, because he doesn"t exist. You have to get the best deal you can, but there will always be problems.

It is well to learn disappointment when one is young, for the gods bestow it abundantly if one cheats death for long.

By the time they've gained respect for you, you've lost respect for them.

This isn't what I wanted to be, I never thought that what I said would have you running from me

Why were all the handsome ones always such bastards?

Giving anyone anything takes courage, since so many presents backfire. A gift conspicuously at odds with your tastes serves only to betray that the benefactor has no earthly clue who you are.

whenever a woman describes a man as sweet, the dalliance is doomed.

Hay algo especialmente terrible en el hecho de que te digan una y otra vez que tienes la vida más maravillosa del mundo y que ni siquiera así esa vida mejore y siga siendo una mierda.

Picture how bitterly hordes of the frustrated, disappointed, and dispossessed would greet any complaint about being too satisfied and too wealthy. Be that as it may, it really isn't a very nice sensation not to want anything. Thwarted hopes are no picnic, but desire itself is energizing.

It's not your job to be *pre-disappointed* for him, dig? You...go on and on about how big and terrible 'the world' is. Well, maybe so. But in that case, it's the world's job to be big and terrible, not yours.

Alguna vez has intentado hacer realidad una fantasía sexual? No tiene gracia. Es desagradable e incómodo, o afectado. Cuando vas a hacerla realidad, no te excita. La fantasía funciona mejor mientras sigue siendo una fantasía. La dejas salir al mundo y termina pareciendo una placenta deforme y toda ensangrentada.

A la hora de la verdad, la gente a la que uno consideraba «amigos íntimos» no era necesariamente aquella con la que se podía contar.

You always imagine you'll savor these icon-cum-nemeses' undoing. You're always wrong.

Some hopes were better nurtured in private, where the words of others could not harm them, and where disappointment could be borne free of the pitying gaze of friends.

His minute steak was tough and chewy, the chips were too greasy, and the ketchup wasn't Heinz.

Neither of them were setting the world alight but then whose children did? All those hopes and dreams and talk of ballerinas and pop stars, concert pianists and boundary-breaking scientists. They all ended up in an office. All of them.

Well, like I say. That is your interpretation of events. I just recall a girl who was disappointed and pissed off because she wasn't going to get to do the things she wanted to do, and a brand-new husband left feeling a little inadequate and scared that the girl would rather leave him and find someone who did

We are setting ourselves free from these broken bodies, from this despicable world, from pain and disappointment.

Yes. It's terrible. Only slightly more terrible than a husband who doesn't come home for a dinner that his wife has cooked for him and spends the whole night out somewhere in his work clothes.