Quotes About Restlessness

When I don't have something to worry about, I worry. Nothing comes so naturally to a human being as anxiety and worry.

But even her Greek property did not inspire Elisabeth to settle down. Hardly had the castle been completed that she set out again, not unlike the way she had behaved about the Hermes Villa, which she no longer especially liked.

I think I would be happy in that place I happen not to be, and this question of moving house is the subject of a perpetual dialogue I have with my soul. Baudelaire, 'Any Where Out of this World!

But, really, why does anyone create? You feel a...a restlessness inside, a need to make something new, something no one has ever seen before. You want to add to the beauty and the richness of the world with a gift, an offering that is uniquely yours. It's an act of selfishness and generosity, all rolled into one.

feel like they are jumping out of their skin

In life, we accept naturally the full reality of what we see and feel in general with no shadow of a doubt. Philosophy, however, does not accept what life believes, and strives to convert reality into a problem. Thus, rather than making life easy for living by living in accord with life, philosophy complicates it by replacing the world's tranquillity with the restlessness of problems.

Happiness lies only in a divine unrest; and if you are lapped in comfort you stagnate and miss it.

I can't sit down long enough to absorb any kind of learning.

I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet; and especially whenever my hypos get such an upper hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street, and methodically knocking people's hats off—then, I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can.

these are all landsmen; of week days pent up in lath and plaster — tied to counters, nailed to benches, clinched to desks. How then is this? Are the green fields gone? What do they here?

When night falls and the world lies lost in sleep, I take to my bed, my heart throbbing, about to break, anxieties swarming, piercing—I may go mad with grief.

But I knew it was pure masturbation, because down in my gut I wanted nothing more than a clean bed and a bright room and something solid to call my own at least until I got tired of it. There was an awful suspicion in my mind that I'd finally gone over the hump, and the worst thing about it was that I didn't feel tragic at all, but only weary, and sort of comfortably detatched.

Life just seems too huge and too fascinating for me to begin thinking about curing my restlessness at this stage of the game. Maybe later.

The motions of the average mind, say the Hindus, are about as orderly as those of a crazed monkey cavorting about its cage. Nay, more; like the prancing of a drunk, crazed monkey. Even so we have not conveyed its restlessness; the mind is like a drunken, crazed monkey that has St. Vitus' Dance. To do justice to our theme, however, we must go a final step. The mind is like a drunken crazed monkey with St. Vitus' Dance who has just been stung by a wasp.

It wasn't torpor that kept her - she was often restless to the point of irritability. She simply liked to feel that she was prevented from leaving, that she was needed.

since coming home, her life had stood still and a fine day like this made her impatient, almost desperate.

She was weary of being outdoors, but she was not ready to go in. Was that really all there was in life, indoors or out? Wasn't there somewhere else for people to go?

And behind all this human movement the ocean bobbed and folded and slid, for nothing could keep still, not people, not water, not time.

I went to school like everyone else, but I hated it, and I always had a lot of problems. Even my younger brother Guglielmo is the same way: we can't stay cooped up in a room for hours, listening.

Youth is such a fascinating and volatile concoction of vulnerability, dependence, restlessness, relentlessness. You're still learning the terms of the world and of the self, in a very immediate way.

I was obsessive-compulsive, and I probably had a little splash of Asperger's in there, but in those days, in 1953, you were just a difficult kid. Attention deficit didn't even exist back then. I really had trouble completing tasks - I couldn't sit still.

It's amazing how much trouble you can get in when you don't have anything else to do.

When I get bored, I get into trouble.

Americans are nervous; Americans are restless; and what troubles me the most is that Americans are uncharacteristically pessimistic.