Quotes About Frustration

Grayson looked at me the way you look at art in a glass case, like he wanted to reach out to touch me but couldn't.

I couldn't shake the feeling that this life was never meant for me.

I was everyone's problem and nobody's.

You don't know how it is. It's like I've got this angry little person inside me, and I can feel him trying to get out. He's running out of room because he's growing bigger and bigger, and so he starts rising up, into my lungs, chest, throat, and I just push him right back down. I don't want him to come out. I can't let him out.

You are driving me crazy. You have been driving me crazy for weeks.

I'm trying out Theodore Finche, '80s kid, and seeing how he fits. I fish through my desk for a cigarette, stick it in my mouth, and remember as I'm reaching for my lighter that Theodore Finch, '80s kid, doesn't smoke. God, I hate him, the clean-cut, eager little prick.

So what makes you angry?` `Stupid people. Fake people. Mean people. Death. I worry about dying all the time. Like, all the time.

The thing I need most in this world is a long, hot shower, but what I get instead is a trickle of warm water followed by a blast of Icelandic cold

I punch on the radio, but all I get is country music and static, and I don't know which is worse.

See, I excel at other, more important things—guitar, sex, and consistently disappointing my dad, to name a few.

He saw Harvey and Edgar catch each other's eye as he looked off toward the strains of Alley Cat, Jesus, hoping they'd rush it faster than the others or he'd have to get out of here. It was the only song he knew that made him want to break something.

That goddamn Louis, you see what he done? Put his cigarette butt in here. I'm gonna punch him right in his smokin' mouth." Max turned back to the form, glades mutual casualty printed across the top. He said, "I know how you feel. But when you hit an ex-con who's done three falls, they say you better kill him.

She might have liked to try to strangle him with those slender fingers of hers, but she wanted to make a job of it and this great patience with which she waited for her claws to grow was in itself a form of enjoyment.

Her anger was rekindled. 'You see, I keep it to myself, but, oh! it's more than I can stand. Don't say anything, sir; don't say anything , or I'll explode!' He said nothing, and she exploded all the same.

vexation, yet filled with unconscious regret for the terrible unknown things that might have, but had not, happened (23)

For a moment he was filled with envy, revolt, and bitter jealousy. He asked himself why he was poor whilst others were rich.

He caressed them, did them violence even, and shed tears of despair over his failures to make them either sufficiently beautiful or sufficiently alive. (42)

He might as well plant an oak in a flowerpot, and expect it to thrive, as imagine he can restore her to vigour in the soil of his shallow cares!

Cathy, this lamb of yours threatens like a bull!' he said. 'It is in danger of splitting its skull against my knuckles. By God! Mr. Linton, I'm mortally sorry that you are not worth knocking down!

The subjects had, indeed, risen vividly on my mind. As I saw them with the spiritual eye, before I attempted to embody them, they were striking; but my hand would not second my fancy, and in each case it had wrought out but a pale portrait of the thing I had conceived.

Is Heathcliff not here?' she demanded, pulling off her gloves, and displaying fingers wonderfully whitened with doing nothing and staying indoors.

Don't torture me till I'm as mad as yourself

I have a good many books on hand, but I am sorry to say that as usual I make small progress with any.

Ah, vieste não é, Edgar Linton? - disse, com irada excitação.- És uma dessas coisas que sempre encontramos quando menos as queremos, e que quando são desejadas, nunca se encontram!