Quotes About Frustration

Jesus Christ, you people are complicated.

I'm tired of it. I'm sick of picking up the pieces and marching bravely onward. I want things to work out just once.

People are never satisfied. They crave too much then complain too much.

Dying is easy; parking is impossible.

Like every human being, Alvin was in some measure a machine, his actions predetermined by his inheritance. That did not alter his need for understanding and sympathy, nor did it render him immune to loneliness or frustration. To his own people, he was so unaccountable a creature that they sometimes forgot that he still shared their emotions.

It seemed altogether unfair and unreasonable that the sky should be so hard.

In Brohier's eyes, violence was not merely the last refuge of the incompetent. It was the gloating revenge of the sore loser.

Every day is kill-the-Americans day here.

There is nothing more stimulating than a case where everything goes against you.

It is a pity he did not write in pencil. As you have no doubt frequently observed, the impression usually goes through -- a fact which has dissolved many a happy marriage.

He was too absurd to make me angry. Indeed, it was a waste of energy, for if you were going to be angry with this man you would be angry all the time.

You have done all the work in this business. I get a wife out of it, Jones gets the credit, pray what remains for you? For me, said Sherlock Holmes, there still remains the cocaine-bottle. And he stretched his long white hand up for it.

That delicately bronzed skin, almost oriental in its coloring, that raven hair, the large liquid eyes, the full but exquisite lips,—all the stigmata of passion were there. But I was sadly conscious that up to now I had never found the secret of drawing it forth. However, come what might, I should have done with suspense and bring matters to a head tonight. She could but refuse me, and better be a repulsed lover than an accepted brother.

A third attempt, later in the day, provoked a terrific crash, and a subsequent message from the Central Exchange that Professor Challenger's receiver had been shattered. After that we abandoned all attempt at communication.

Yet upon that afternoon, whether it was the Beaune which I had taken with my lunch or the additional exasperation produced by the extreme deliberation of his manner, I suddenly felt that I could hold out no longer.

My mind is like a racing engine, tearing itself to pieces because it is not connected up with the work for which it was built.

Time had a grudge against her.' – Evalle

La historia de la humanidad está escrita por personas que quieren algo que no pueden tener.

And we're back where we started. Beginning to feel like I'm riding a hamster wheel.

There's no use in talking about the plan, because of course nothing went the way it was supposed to.

Damned planes. Too confining, too noisy—too fucking high in the air.

How feasible do you think that is? About as feasible as me fitting into the petite sizes at the clothing store. I can try, but it's never going to work.

The rage - at fate, at God. Not merely being helpless, but in someone's - something's - power. I've always detested any sense of power over me.

Paul resented this historic position she had established for herself in the momentum of his life, and because of it would have liked to see her broken.