Quotes About Expectation

One day, I'm going to live in theory, because in theory everything goes perfectly . . .

Quizá contestes a esta postal, quizá encuentre una carta tuya cuando vuelva a casa, quizá vengas a buscarme. Me parece que estoy harto de tanto "quizá".

Just that you should expect as much as any other woman.

C'est moche d'avoir à guetter un signe de quelqu'un pour se sentir heureux.

Imagining the worst has always been a great comfort to me. If there is turbulence there is an imminent crash. If she doesn't pick up the phone, she is fucking someone. If there is a lump it is a tumor. By thinking like this I protect myself from disappointment. And if anything other than the worst-case scenario unfolds, what a pleasant surprise!

I expect relief and life-changing impact from everything.

A priori, I want to go to bed with every pretty woman I meet. If I don't do it, it's because I'm afraid of being disappointed.

Nos jours ne sont beaux que par leur lendemain.

This is not a very surprising story; but wait a minute; it's going to be.

A cathedral, a wave of storm, a dancer's leap, never turn out to be as high as we had hoped.

A catherdral, a wave of storm, a dancer's leap, never turn out to be as high as we had hoped.

It comes so soon, the moment when there is nothing left to wait for.

Love...., ever unsatisfied, lives always in the moment that is about to come.

But,instead of what our imagination makes us suppose and which we worthless try to discover,life gives us something that we could hardly imagine.

With women who do not love us, as with the "dear departed," the knowledge that there is no hope left does not prevent us from continuing to wait.

A cathedral, a wave of a storm, a dancer's leap, never turn out to be as high as we had hoped.

But one never finds a cathedral, a wave in a storm, a dancer's leap in the air quite as high as one has been expecting;

And it is perhaps one of the causes of our perpetual disappointments in love, this perpetual displacement whereby, in response to our expectation of the ideal person whom we love, each meeting provides us with a person in flesh and blood who yet contains so little trace of our dream.

I knew very well that this hope was chimerical. I was like a pauper who mingles fewer tears with his dry bread if he tells himself that at any moment a stranger will bequeath to him his fortune. We must all, in order to make reality more tolerable, keep alive in us a few little follies.

Unfortunately the next day was not the vast, extraneous expanse of time which I had feverishly looked forward. When it drew to a close my laziness and my painful struggle to overcome internal obstacles had simply lasted twenty-four hours longer.

But in exchange for what our imagination leads us to expect and we give ourselves so much futile trouble trying to find, life gives us something which we were very far from imagining.

I felt even disappointed when he resumed the thread of his narrative.

Things outside seemed also fixed in mute expectation, so as not to disturb the moonlight which, duplicating each of them and throwing it back by the extension, forwards, of a shadow denser and more concrete than its substance, had made the whole landscape seem at once thinner and longer, like a map which, after being folded up, is spread out upon the ground.

But he did not tell her, for he realised how petty it would appear to her, and how different from what she had expected, less sensational and less touching; he was afraid, too, lest, disillusioned in the matter of art, she might at the same time be disillusioned in the greater matter of love.