Quotes About Frustration

But he was not a writer, and never would be. Try as he might, he only succeeded in putting honest words on the rack, leaving them screaming, though of this he was happily unconscious.

I spoke to ears that refused to hear.

Ser maldito es saber que tu discurso no puede tener eco, porque no hay oídos que lleguen a entenderte. En esto se parece a la locura. Ser maldito es no coincidir con tu tiempo, con tu clase, con tu entorno, con tu lengua, con la cultura a la que se supone que perteneces. Ser maldito es desear ser como los demás pero no poder. Y querer que te quieran pero sólo producir miedo o quizá risa. Ser maldito es no soportar la vida y sobre todo no soportarte a ti mismo.

my time pulling up the beastly things.

Antony was neat-fingered and had obviously done this thing many times before, but still indulged in a good deal of cursing and bad language before the new bow and a few arrows were finally done.

If the only time a child looks as if he has bipolar disorder is when he's frustrated, that's not bipolar disorder; that's a learning disability in the domains of flexibility and frustration tolerance.

Challenging kids are lacking the skills of flexibility, adaptability, frustration tolerance, and problem solving, skills most of us take for granted.

because your child isn't challenging every second of every waking hour. He's challenging sometimes, particularly in situations where flexibility, adaptability, frustration tolerance, and problem solving are required.

QUESTION: Isn't it the parents' job to make their child behave at school? ANSWER: Helping a child deal more adaptively with frustration is everyone's job. The parents aren't there when the child has challenging episodes at school.

What in the blue star-blazes did you see in Jason? he asked, still forcefully but with his frustration and jealousy under better control. For one thing, Djetth, he wasn't trying to kill me! (Marsh, heroine of Insufficient Mating Material)

Rhett: Here's the problem. I am not the sexual equivalent of an espresso machine.

O sucesso sempre incomoda os medíocres ambiciosos, os sonhadores incapazes, os fracassados em geral.

Fico na frente da televisão para aumentar o meu ódio. Quando minha cólera está diminuindo e eu perco a vontade de cobrar o que me devem eu sento na frente da televisão e em pouco tempo meu ódio volta.

No fairyland is Capua—still, 'tis better Than other lands. St. Vincent licked the stamp and signed the letter, And bound the bands Of that foul, frail red tape which strangles ever The honest energetic fool's endeavour.

Angry? Yes, I'm angry: I'd be a lousy lawyer if I weren't.

So of course I feel angry, I said, angrily. What do you expect? It was a stupid thing to ask. Yes, she agreed. It was a stupid thing to ask. I see that you're angry. I don't need to ask such a stupid thing to understand that. So why did you ask? Slowly she turned herself around, pivoting on her knees, until finally she was facing me. I asked for you, she said. For me? So you could hear the answer.

Catching it destroys it, and I felt like I was disappearing, too. Stuff like this can drive you crazy.

People understand me so little that they do not even understand when I complain of being misunderstood.

I am so fed up and joyless that not only have I nothing to fill my soul, I cannot even conceive of anything that could possibly satisfy it - alas, not even the bliss of heaven.

Time stands still and I with it. All the plans I form fly straight back at me, when I want to spit in my own face.

I feel as a chessman must when the opponent says of it: that piece cannot be moved.

Look, Grover Cleveland," one of them finally snapped at me after my third approach. "Harmoniums and water wings, diavolos and pungs we got, but Victorian easy chairs—nyet. And now, excuse me, will you? I have another nudnick here wants a round table like King Arthur's.

I swear, Oliver, when did you become such a stick-in-the-mud?" "I've always been a stick-in-the-mud." Her brother cast her a thin smile. "I just hid it beneath all the debauchery." She sniffed. "I wish you'd hide it again. It's quite annoying.

The thought of squeezing back into his stifling pre-war life stopped his breath in panic. In truth, the only time he breathed easily was with Harry, whom he loved with that same red raw ferocity — and whom he'd love with passion given the chance. But he wouldn't get that chance. The world forbade it.