Quotes About Restlessness

Where then did I get my longing to see the world, my fetish for printed paper, my love of books, and above all that burning desire to leave Florence, to travel, to go to the ends of earth? Where did I get this yearning for always being somewhere else? Certainly not from my parents, with their deep roots in the city where they were born and grew up, which they had left only once, for their honeymoon in Prato -- ten miles away.

We looked like dogs chasing cars in trafic

The only horrible thing in the world is ennui

And Sleep will not lie down, but walks Wild-eyed and cries to Time.

Some girls are like ants in your pants

But the southwest wind of Spring brings also remorse. We catch the vague spirit of unrest in the air and we regret our misspent youth.

Whom can I ask what I came to make happen in this world? Why do I move without wanting to, why am I not able to sit still? Why do I go rolling without wheels, flying without wings or feathers, and why did I decide to migrate if my bones live in Chile?

Just as a wet match, when struck, does not produce fire, so a mind saturated with restlessness cannot produce the fire of concentration even when one makes great efforts to strike the cosmic spark.

You should transfer your attention from failure to success, from worry to calmness, from mental wanderings to concentration, from restlessness to peace, and from peace to the divine bliss within. When you attain this state of Self-realization the purpose of your life will have been gloriously fulfilled.

Yet I can walk away from best friends and rarely think of them again. I can close a door and not look back. There's something about my soul that's always ready to go, to break camp, to unfold the road map, to leave at night when the house inspection's done and the civilians are asleep and the open road is calling...

As a result, he is hardly ever happy in the place where he is, something in him is already moving forward to the next place, and yet he is never going towards something, always away, away

I don't smoke, although it looks fantastic in films. But I light matches on those thinking blank nights when I crawl my route out onto the roof of the garage and the sky while my parents sleep innocent and the lonely cars move sparse on the faraway streets, when the pillow won't stay cool and the blankets bother my body no matter how I move or lie still. I just sit with my legs dangling and light matches and watch them flicker away.

I was too jitterbuggy happy to sleep, and the whole day kept playing in my brain's little screening room.

This is the curse of our age, even the strangest aberrations are no cure for boredom.

I can remember running around at the age of 3, wanting to play golf, cricket and football. I was always active, one way or another, driving my parents mad.

I'm up all night against my will My medicine won't let me feel anything at all The doctor gave me sleeping pills and I took one Then I feel all alone, sleeping like a stone.

And yet in Port William, as everywhere else, it was already the second decade of the twentieth century. And in some of the people of the town and the community surrounding it, one of the characteristic diseases of the twentieth century was making its way: the suspicion that they would be greatly improved if they were someplace else.

Another place! it's enough to grieve me – that old dream of going, of becoming a better man just by getting up and going to a better place.

I began to take for granted that I was somewhere, and somewhere that I knew, but I never quite felt that I was somewhere I wanted to be.

Dan slept throughout - but a man who sleeps with his head lying on a phone table can never really sleep with a clean conscience

the classes themselves, which were prim and undemanding, bored me in a way school never had before. . .So I passed the class hours slouched in the back rows, keeping an eye on the trees outside for signs of wind direction and strength, drawing page after page of surfboards and waves.

Billy felt like a lid unsecured and banging in the wind.

it's the growing sense of dissatisfaction that keeps one awake at night. The brain refusing to let go of the alternative lives that might have been. It isn't the strong sleepers who sleep around.

Desire isn't lack, it's surplus energy - a claustrophobia inside your skin -.