Quotes About Disappointment

The problem nowadays is that, by and large, we do a pretty bad job of picking role models. We glorify actors, singers, athletes, and generic "celebrities," only to be disappointed when—predictably—it turns out that their excellence at reciting, singing, playing basketball, or racking up Facebook likes and Twitter followers has pretty much nothing to do with their moral fiber.

I feel as disappointed as if I'd just opened a parcel full of ghosts.

Pero, ante todo, la felicidad me asusta. Soy consciente del dolor que puedo causar. La idea de la decepción me impide disfrutar de una historia de forma espontánea. Creo que no he nacido para vivir las cosas de forma duradera, aparte de la invisibilidad. Me contento con degustar alguna chuchería de vez en cuando, pero respeto las dosis homeopáticas de amor que me he prescrito.

Why, oh why had he taken up Debbie's offer of a free personal training session, and today of all days? There was no way he was going to get ripped abs by this evening, and the muscles he suspected he'd torn in his lower back were hardly the same thing.

We put our trust in others, and sometimes they disappoint us in the worst possible ways. Does that mean we should lash out and look for people onto whom we can shuffle the blame?

Maybe that's what all lives were, though. Maybe even the most seemingly perfectly intense or worthwhile lives ultimately felt the same. Acres of disappointment and monotony and hurts and rivalries but with flashes of wonder and beauty. Maybe that was the only meaning that mattered. To be the world, witnessing itself.

Goals are the source of misery. An unattained goal causes pain, but actually achieving it brings only a brief satisfaction.

Maybe that's what all lives were, though. Maybe even the most seemingly perfectly intense or worthwhile lives ultimately felt the same. Acres of disappointment and monotony and hurts and rivalries but with flashes of wonder and beauty.

Maybe that's what all lives were, though. Maybe even the most seemingly perfectly intense or worthwhile lives ultimately felt the same. Acres of disappointment and monotony and hurts and rivalries but with flashes of wonder and beauty. Maybe that was the only meaning that mattered. To be the world, witnessing itself. Maybe it wasn't the lack of achievements that had made her and her brother's parents unhappy, maybe it was the expectation to achieve in the first place.

When she thought about it – and increasingly she had been thinking about it – Nora was only able to think of herself in terms of the things she wasn't. The things she hadn't been able to become. And there really were quite a lot of things she hadn't become.

The more 'success' you get, the easier it is to be disappointed by not getting things. The only difference is that now no one feels sorry for you.

Maybe that's what all lives were, though. Maybe even the most seemingly perfectly intense or worthwhile lives ultimately felt the same. Acres of disappointment and monotony and hurts and rivalries but with flashes of wonder and beauty. Maybe that was the only meaning that mattered. To be the world, witnessing itself. Maybe it wasn't the lack of achievements that had made her and her brother's parents unhappy, maybe it was the expectation to achieve in the first place. She

Maybe she was just really crap at it. At life.

Me sentaba a la luz de la mesita de noche para leer durante unas dos horas después de que Andrea se hubiera dormido, hasta que los ojos se me secaban y dolían, siempre buscando y sin encontrar nunca nada, pero con esa sensación de tenerlo casi al alcance de la mano.

Maybe that's what all lives were, though. Maybe even the most seemingly perfectly intense or worthwhile lives ultimately felt the same. Acres of disappointment and monotony and hurts and rivalries but with flashes of wonder and beauty. Maybe that was the only meaning that mattered.

Maybe that's what all lives were, though. Maybe even the most seemingly perfect intense or worthwhile lives ultimately felt the same. Acres of disappointment and monotony and hurts and rivalries but with flashes of wonder and beauty. Maybe that was the only meaning that mattered. To the world, witnessing itself.

No wonder he pissed on the carpet and ate the sofa. This wasn't the life he'd asked for.

But there's some salad in the fridge if you get hungry.' Salad?! On his birthday!

Maybe that's what all lives were, though. Maybe even the most seemingly perfectly intense or worthwhile lives ultimately felt the same. Acres of disappointment and monotony and hurts and rivalries but with flashes of wonder and beauty. Maybe that was the only meaning that mattered. To be the world, witnessing itself.

Acres of disappointment and monotony and hurts and rivalries but with flashes of wonder and beauty.

She had come to imagine mediocrity and disappointment were her destiny.

Acres of disappointment and monotony and hurts and rivalries but with flashes of wonder and beauty. Maybe that was the only meaning that mattered. To be the world, witnessing itself.

Mum turned around in the passenger seat and looked at me and smiled and the smile had a slightly crumpled quality, her eyes glazed with tears. I felt it. The weight of Mum. The weight of being a son that had gone wrong. The weight of being loved. The weight of being a disappointment. The weight of being a hope that hadn't happened the way it should have.

Maybe that's what all lives were, though. Maybe even the most seemingly perfect intense or worthwhile lives ultimately felt the same. Acres of disappointment and monotony and hurts and rivalries, but with flashes of wonder and beauty. Maybe that was the only meaning that mattered. To be the world, witnessing itself.