Quotes About Restlessness

A storm was inside her and she could not subdue it. If she could be sure, if she could hold Lydia again, if she could kiss her cool cheeks, if she could put her finger on that mouth that couldn't swallow, that couldn't cry, that no longer needed her, that no longer knew her, then maybe she could settle down. Hope was the devil, hope wrestled with her and wouldn't let her rest.

Boredom is an emptiness filled with insistence.

The awareness begins with a feeling of restlessness—an inner urging to find more meaning in life. As we respond to this inner prompting we begin to notice the "chance coincidences"—strange synchronistic events in our life. We begin to realize that some underlying process is operating our life.

This restless searching is what's behind the 'me–first' attitude that has characterized recent decades, and it's affecting everyone, from Wall Street to street gangs." She

There is nothing so desperately monotonous as the sea; I no longer wonder at the cruelty of pirates.

I was uncomfortable enough. I was very uncomfortable, I may say unhappy.

When she was discontented, she fancied herself nervous.

I wanted to hear what she was saying. I wanted to smell that burnt midnight again, I wanted to feel that wind. It was a secret wanting, like a song I couldn't stop humming, or loving someone I could never have. No matter where I went, my compass pointed west. I would always know what time it was in California.

I loathe nowheres - airports and bland hotels. I would rather be in an unpleasant, uncomfortable place rather than one just adrift, floating around.

Unrest of spirit is a mark of life.

For me, sitting still is harder than any kind of work.

Nothing came easy. I was just born with a need to explore every part of my mind. And with long searching and hard work, I became devoted to my restlessness.

I can never stand still. I must explore and experiment. I am never satisfied with my work. I resent the limitations of my own imagination.

With me, satisfaction is always very fleeting with our work. I always get a little restless with it.

Only man is not content to leave things as they are but must always be changing them, and when he has done so, is seldom satisfied with the result.

I can't stand still; I find it very difficult to sit around and do nothing. I've got to have projects on the go because the devil makes work for idle hands. I've got to be going forward all the time.

I am blackly bored when they are at large and at work; but somehow I am still more blackly bored when they are shut up in Holloway and we are deprived of them.

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

The stimulation I get from my phone does not feel like the opposite of boredom to me. It actually feels like a different flavor of boredom... a twitchier flavor. And sometimes, it's almost more irritation than stimulation. It's an itch.

I love being on the road. I sit at home too long, and I start to go a bit stir crazy.

It was all encompassing and so hard for me to do any classes or take up any hobbies - I'd wake up with this gnawing feeling in my stomach that I wasn't doing what I was meant to do.

I have a real problem with stillness. With just stopping and being quiet.

The urge to run, the restlessness The heart of stone I sometimes get The things I've done for foolish pride The me that's never satisfied The face that's in the mirror when I don't like what I see I guess that's just the cowboy in me

Sometimes I have trouble sleeping. It's weird—I can feel exhausted but still, I just lie there wide awake, staring up into the dark with all sorts of ideas bombarding me like dead pelicans