Quotes About Restlessness

Ramona wished she could run, run, run out of that classroom as she had the day before and never come back.

It should have been enough. He should have been content to stay home without venturing out into the world looking for speed and excitement. Outside in the hall Ralph heard

All human evil comes from a single cause, man's inability to sit still in a room.

Nothing is so intolerable to man as being fully at rest, without a passion, without business, without entertainment, without care.

Man finds nothing so intolerable as to be in a state of complete rest, without passions, without occupation, without diversion, without effort. Then he faces his nullity, loneliness, inadequacy, dependence, helplessness, emptiness. And at once there wells up from the depths of his soul boredom, gloom, depression, chagrin, resentment, despair.

For the chief malady of man is restless curiosity about things which he cannot understand; and it is not so bad for him to be in error as to be curious to no purpose.

As men who naturally understand their own condition avoid nothing so much as rest, so there is nothing they leave undone in seeking turmoil.

I have often said the soul cause of man's unhappiness is that he does not know how to stay quietly in a room. (Page 32)

Ainsi s'écoule toute la vie ; on cherche le repos en combattant quelques obstacles et si on les a surmontés le repos devient insupportable par l'ennui qu'il engendre. Il en faut sortir et mendier le tumulte.

Thus men who are naturally conscious of what they are shun nothing, so much as rest; they would do anything to be disturbed.

This is how the whole of our life slips by. We seek repose by battling against certain obstacles, and once they are overcome we find rest is unbearable because of the boredom it generates. ... We can't imaging a condition that is pleasant without fun and noise.

All human troubles derive from our inability to sit still and alone in a room.

How does it feel, how does it feel to be without a home, like a complete unknown, like a rolling stone.

It seemed I'd always been chasing after something, anything that moved -a car, a bird, a blowing leaf -anything that might lead me into some more lit place, some unknown land downriver. I had not even the vaguest notion of the broken world I was living in, what society could do with you.

I don't want to go to Italy no more, I don't want to go nowhere no more. You end up crashing in a private airplane, in the mountains of Tennessee... or Sicily...

Már nem rágta az utóbbi napok nyugtalansága, úgy érezte, narancs alakú a szíve.

Sleep has no place it can call its own.

I couldn't sleep for the longest time. I lay in bed watching the wreaths of sea mist sweep by. At times the mist cleared, and the sea for some distance could be seen in the glare of the lightning, which now came thick and fast, followed by such sudden peals of thunder that the whole sky overhead trembled under the shock of the footsteps of the storm.

But for the rest nothing amused him; nothing satisfied him. All was shadows, emptiness, echoes and dust.

It is awful to want to go away and to want to go nowhere.

I wait and ache.

I wish I knew what to do with my life, what to do with my heart…I do nothing all day, boredom settles in, I look at the sky so I get to feel even smaller than I already feel and my mind keeps poisoning itself uselessly.

There is only continual motion. If I rest, if I think inward, I go mad. There is so much, and I am torn in different directions, pulled thin, taut against horizons too distant for me to reach. Swift, ceaseless pace. Will I never rest in sunlight again - slow, languid & golden with peace?

I crawled between the mattress and the padded bedstead and let the mattress fall across me like a tombstone. It felt dark and safe under there, but the mattress was not heavy enough. It needed about a ton more weight to make me sleep.