Quotes About Frustration

When violence gets in, a complaint comes out.

I wasn't only sad--I was angry. I still felt lost in a dark, terrifying maze. And I was furious at the world for leaving me here.

At this moment, the story in his head was perfect. He also knew from experience that it would degenerate the second he started typing, because such was the nature of writing.

my intention that people will feel like throttling her

You know you're in a bad patch when the most interesting part of the book you're reading is the acknowledgments page.

You know what they say about hope. It breeds eternal misery!

My whole life has been one big broken promise.

He said I didn't need to save him. But you want to. Yeah. But I can't. Right? Probably not. Usually not.

Do you ever feel helpless? Helpless, useless, clueless. And old. Don't forget old.

I hate it when people think they know me when they really don't.

I'd much rather be eating a bar of chocolate or even something healthy like a lettuce leaf alone at my desk than sitting through this silent, painful meal.

Hate Spinnerbait!

Nothing had been okay, not for a long time. And every moment that I thought I was getting close, like the one I'd had earlier, seemed to remind the universe that I didn't deserve that, not yet.

Not for the first time, I wished both of us could just say what we meant. But that, like so much else, was impossible

You stop believing in wishes when the only one you want to make can never come true.

Shit, Delia said. I mean, shoot. No, actually, I mean shit. I really do.

The only thing I can't stand more than seeing something done wrong is seeing it done slowly.

For two hours I'd felt myself stretching tighter and tighter, like a rubber band pulled to the point of snapping. And now, I could feel the smaller, weaker part of myself beginning to fray, tiny bits giving way before the big break.

As if at the age of eighteen life already sucked beyond any hope of improvement.

She tried to be someone people liked. She tried to be someone people disliked. But all I became was someone who didn't succeed with anything I tried to be.

The words we knew always fell short of what we wanted them to say.

I was bored. Sad. Lonely. It was only a matter of time before I cracked.

Everyone else could get through to my mother: all they had to do was dial a number and wait for her to pick up. If only, I thought, it was that easy for me.

I hate not having what I want