Quotes About Disappointment

I am sorry to say there will be no wedding today.

There is no such thing as unlimited trust. At some point, all beings with free will can, and will, betray you when you're no longer pursuing the same goals.

You sound disappointed." Shane's voice came out faint and thready, and he put his head back against the cushions as he squeezed his eyes shut. "Damn, I hate this. I really do." I know," Oliver said. "Your blood reeks of it.

Maybe you're not his type. Michael said Oh, now you're just being insulting.

Myrnin was silent for a beat, and then he said, Bob would be very disappointed in you.

Damn, there goes my chance for some hot sexy talk.

I know, not what you were expecting am I? Everybody says that. Including my own family.

Myrnin to Claire: Claire, there are things to do. Here, too, and I'm staying here, believe me. Myrnin was silent for a beat, and then he said, Bob would be very disappointed in you. Bob the spider? He looks at you like a mother, you know. I'm surprised at your lack of work ethic. Think of the example you set for - She hung up.

Hey, we had fun. In the sense of next to none at all, I mean. Next time, can we at least stop at a mall? May be see a movie? Avoid the mass murder of our enemies, maybe?

It's not your enemies who are likeliest to hurt you. It is, always, those you trust.

My heart literally aches, that shit is not made up; it hurts for an unexpected, brief time warp of suddenly wanting and longing and believing, but then not having.

I kind of hate Nick right now, too, but there's someone else higher on my list, someone I hate more than Saddam Hussein and any asshole named Bush combined, hate more than that fuckhead who canceled 'My So-Called Life' and left me with a too-small boxed DVD set that does not answer the questions whether Angela and Jordan Catalano did it, or if Patty and Graham got a divorce, or if there really was something to all that lesbian subtext between Rayanne and Sharon.

no one is ever who you want them to be. And the less you really know them, the more likely you are to confuse them with the girl or boy in your head.

It's always the ones who believe who are hurt the most when things go wrong.

It's always the ones who believe who are hurt the most when things go wrong. She

I guess I'm nervous to be meeting you," Lily said at long last, eyes still closed. "Likewise," I assured her. "I find I very rarely live up to my words. And since you know me primarily through my words, there are oh so many ways I can disappoint.

Fuck her. Fuck her for getting in that cab. Fuck her for fucking with my mind. Fuck her for not knowing what she wants. Fuck her for dragging me into it. Fuck her for being such a fantastic kisser. Fuck her for ruining my favorite band. Fuck her for barely saying a word to me before she left. Fuck her for not waving. Fuck her for getting my hopes up. Fuck her for making my hopes useless. Fuck her for taking off with my fucking jacket. Fuck me.

Fuck me for always getting into situations like this. Fuck me for caring. Fuck me for not knowing the words that would've made her stay. Fuck me for not knowing what I want. Fuck me for wavering. Fuck me for not kissing her back the right way. Fuck me for getting my hopes up. Fuck me for not having more realistic hopes. Fuck me for giving her my fucking jacket. Fuck.

Be careful what you're doing, because no one is ever who you want them to be. And the less you really know them, the more likely you are to confuse them with the girl or boy in your head.

I'd never thought a single sentence could turn me off so decisively from both making love and playing the piano, but there it was.

Love didn't fail, Constantina. Only one love did. It failed because we asked too much of it, he and I. We each, in our own time, asked it to remake the world.

Her husband, Rafael, who'd left her and who'd contributed not one penny to his children's welfare, was a fool of such dimensions that he should have been required to dress like a jester, complete with silly hat and curled-toe shoes.

But just when a man expects he's earned the littlest bit of milk and honey, the world throws a load of horseshit at him.

Eventually he understood that he was crying for himself. He was ashamed of the man whom he had become, mourning the man whom he had expected to be when he'd been a boy.