Quotes About Frustration

Every composer knows the anguish and despair occasioned by forgetting ideas which one had no time to write down.

Imagine if every Thursday your shoes exploded if you tied them the usual way. This happens to us all the time with computers, and nobody thinks of complaining.

When I was a little boy and played Liebestraum, my father used to hit me on the head with a newspaper every time I slopped the cadenza . . . I hate Liebestraum.

Three o'clock is always too late or too early for anything you want to do.

When you first start writing a song, it's fun, then when you start recording it, it's fun, but by the time you've finished recording it, you're sick of it.

No one was more shocked or angry than I was when we didn't find the weapons. I had a sickening feeling every time I thought about it. I still do.

Looking and not finding is certainly one of the most frustrating ways to spend time.

Every time I look into his eyes I just want to take the ice cream or whatever I've got in my hand and rub it into his face. That's how much I like him.

Darn the wheel of the world! Why must it continually turn over? Where is the reverse gear?

It's income tax time again, Americans: time to gather up those receipts, get out those tax forms, sharpen up that pencil, and stab yourself in the aorta

What is opportunity to the man who can't use it? An unfecundated egg, which the waves of time wash away into nonentity.

The slowness of time, for a man who knows nothing will happen, is brutal.

What happened to him? (Lioness) He pissed me off. (Savitar) Why hasn't one of the other jaguars taken his place? (Lioness) He pissed me off...big time. (Savitar)

I'm a little disappointed I didn't get fiddled with by a TSA agent at the airport. I feel unwanted. Maybe next time.

I think golf is a waste of time and a waste of a sunny afternoon. I also stink at it. I have never found anything, including divorce and a sexual harassment suit, more frustrating.

felt that he just wanted somebody to keep a house clean for him and do the shopping and the cooking. He was always in the garage with his cars, working on them, doing something. All he wanted was food and sex, and that was it. Any time we did talk, it would end up in arguments.

And yet I don't seem able to touch on the subjects I'm so longing to bring out into the daylight.

No; for instead of delivering myself up to the full enjoyment of them as others do, I am always troubling my head about how I could produce the same effect upon canvas; and as that can never be done, it is more vanity and vexation of spirit.

I can conceive few situations more harassing than that wherein, however you may long for success, however you may labour to fulfil your duty, your efforts are baffled and set at nought by those beneath you, and unjustly censured and misjudged by those above.

What a tiresome custom that is, by the by - one among the many sources of factitious annoyance of this ultra civilised life. If the gentlemen must lead the ladies into the dining-room, why cannot they take those they like best?

sick of mankind and their disgusting ways...

My interest is a lonely one. I cannot trot it out at cocktail parties. I feel sometimes as if I have spent a large part of my life learning a dead language that no one I know can speak.

I get cross, then sad, and finally end up turning my heart inside out, and keep trying to find a way to become what I'd like to be and what I could be if....if only there were no other people in the world.

But I won't bore you any longer on the subject of old men. It won't make things any better and all my plans of revenge (such as disconnecting the lamp, shutting the door, hiding his clothes) must be abandoned in order to keep the peace. Oh, I'm becoming so sensible! ...