Quotes About Frustration

I'm on the verge of a total breakdown. Sciatica. Taxes. Cars. Fleas, possibly. It's an absurd existence.

I began to enjoy myself: being apoplectic's quite invigorating.

When he heard his father call out for Abel and he saw his borther go forth, it made him feel like he was nothing. He couldn't even say that he felt like Cain anymore. One could not feel like Cain because it had no flavor. Cain was the absence of flavor. Cain was like saliva or a Wednesday.

people to break their emotional attachments to people and events, which are always unpredictable and uncontrollable, and to cultivate instead an attitude of acceptance. This ancient idea deserves respect, and it is certainly true that changing your mind is usually a more effective response to frustration than is changing the world.

The social intuitionist model offers an explanation of why moral and political arguments are so frustrating: because moral reasons are the tail wagged by the intuitive dog. A dog's tail wags to communicate. You can't make a dog happy by forcibly wagging its tail. And you can't change people's minds by utterly refuting their arguments. Hume diagnosed the problem long ago:

Listen, I'm going to tell you this because no one else will, Franklin. Spider-Man sucks.

Sometimes things don't fall into place just because you do a good job.

Fuck you in the ass," said Skip. Looking for his trunks.

he pulled it off, I got stuck with him. He thought by being an A-plus ass-kisser he could get into my good graces. Sleazy. Did he finally turn criminal?" Speaking evenly but no mistaking the anger. Milo said, "Finally?

Heights—an orange-vested Caltrans crew, stupidest agency in the state, taking petty-fascist satisfaction in blocking off two lanes. I sat, idling along with the Seville, rolled a foot or two, sat some more, finally got past La Cienega. Unmindful of the noise and the dirt. New focus: yearning to feel useful.

Grumbling, grimacing, and mumbled curses peak during the muddled middle of murder investigations, when promising leads break their promises.

I feel, in the end, as if everything I've done has been a failure.

An alleyway is a disappointed road, waiting for someone to widen it.

I would have liked to play the piano. Once at a concert an elderly lady leaned toward me: "You are a pianist, aren't you?"—"Unfortunately not, madam," I had to answer with regret. Even today, the thought that I don't play the piano and never will play it suffocates me, sometimes even more than the horrors, the dark river of my past carrying me through the years. I literally can't get over it.

I did not and do not want my life tied up in cloak-and-dagger bullshit, dead guys, or pissing contests with either the testosterone crowd in there or some prissy-assed Earl Grey-drinking, scone-munching major who isn't even my freaking boss. I don't know you and I don't give a rat's ass if you trust me.

How the hell are you idiots allowed to run a country? I should have voted for a clown college. They'd at least have a reason for being this stupid.

She agreed with Mark Twain that golf was a "good walk spoiled.

Some people never want to be part of the solution. All they want to do is bitch and whine and create complications for other people. You

Time crawled on as if its legs were broken.

hmmm even mean? It wasn't even a proper flipping word! It was so flipping annoying!

I'm wasting my life … I haven't done anything worthwhile in years … I need to move somewhere else, do something else, anything … How come I'm not on the Sunday talk shows? How come I'm not in charge of something, like a business?

Rapid change makes people very unhappy." The result is what she calls the paradox of frustrated achievers and happy peasants.

Connard!—T'es un salaud!—Va te faire foutre!

Gee, I am a complete Luddite when it comes to computers, I can barely log on!