Quotes About Frustration

Frustration begins where knowledge ends

The torment of human frustration, whatever its immediate cause, is the knowledge that the self is in prison, its vital force and "mangled mind" leaking away in lonely, wasteful self-conflict.

Knowledge is almost annoying.

The fact that knowledge endlessly recedes as the investigator is about to grasp it is what constitutes at the same time his torment and happiness.

I'm always angry about the death of people who are still alive, their eyes are opened, yet they can't see anything...the spell of ignorance

It was his knowledge of his own willful stupidity that had brought on his irritation

Relying on nothing but scientific knowledge to produce an engineering solution is to invite frustration at best and failure at worst.

Leadership: Lions led by donkeys.

I'm impatient. Typically people think they know all about change and don't need help. Their approach tends to be more management-oriented than leadership-oriented. It's very frustrating.

Learning to play golf is like learning to play the violin. It's not only difficult to do, it's very painful to everyone around you.

There were no object lessons, and the studies of bookkeeping and French were pursued (but never effectually overtaken.

I bought a self learning record to learn Spanish. I turned it on and went to sleep; the record got stuck. The next day I could only stutter in Spanish.

There's a weird period of learning how to play guitar where your fingers are constantly messed up a handful.

Trying to make order out of my life was like trying to pick up a jellyfish.

I wish I could remember where I put things. I spend half my life looking for my keys. With the other half I look for my glasses.

That's the story of my life; I always get the fuzzy end of the lollipop.

The one thing life has taught me is that most people spend their lives bottled up inside their houses doing the things they hate.

The pointlessness of that, the pressure of that, almost got to me again. The waste of it all.

With a snarl of frustration, Control put aside the question of Whitby and buried himself again in the director's notes, kept Grace's intel about the director's focus in mind while trying to divine from those dried entrails more than they might actually contain.

Silence creates its own violence.

Sometimes you can't be what you ought to be, you can't have what you ought to have.

Hanging out with you is like an extra job.

Parents: so essential, yet sometimes like something you've stepped in and cannot get off your shoe. What else is there but to love them?

Imperfect people are all God has ever had to work with. This must be terribly frustrating to Him, but He deals with it.