Quotes About Frustration

Now and again he let out a sort of clipped, bitter laugh. "Good God, to have fought in '14 and then see this Ã¢â'¬Â¦

Dar porÈ›ile de fier din toate g?rile erau deja z?vorâte È™i p?zite de soldaÈ›i. MulÈ›imea se ag??a de bare, le zgâlÈ›âia, apoi se retr?gea în dezordine pe str?zile vecine. Femeile fugeau plângând, cu copiii în braÈ›e. Erau oprite ultimele taxiuri. Li se ofereau dou?, trei mii de franci ca s? p?r?seasc? Parisul. <> Dar È™oferii refuzau, nu mai aveau benzin?.

But why are we always the ones who have to suffer?" she cried out in indignation. "Us and people like us? Ordinary people, the lower middle classes.

That's how vile i am! I live Ireland, I breathe Ireland, and Christ how I loathe it, I wish I were a bloody Scot, that's how bloody awful it is being Irish!

I felt so ashamed with them because everything in their life was going so well and they were so sort of successful. I couldn't talk about what I wanted with them and they were always in a hurry.

But I live, I live , with an absolutely continuous sense of failure. I am always defeated, always.

It's not my fault! It can't make any difference, can it? You understand nothing. You are a destroyer, a black spiteful destroyer. You are the sort of person who goes around in a dream smashing things . . . You aren't really here at all.

You see, nobody cares about me except you. You don't know what that's like. You've always had people who cared. You've always had people . I've never had anybody. No wonder I feel frustrated.

And do stop sneezing. It annoys me so much when people sneeze.

Oh God, that conversation last night or this morning or whenever that devil-ridden scrap of nightmare had been. How could two rational beings go on and on simply saying the same awful things to each other week after week, month after month?

I believe that unfulfilled frustrated people probably spend a lot of their lives in pure fantasy-dreaming. This can I am sure be a great source of consolation though not always harmless.

You rail on us all for not being saints. Yes, yes, yes. And when I stop that railing I shall be dead. It is the only thing I know and I shall cry it out again and again, like a tedious little bird with only one song.

Oh Irina, there's so much life for us. Is there? I feel I have no life. There's nothing in front of me but a black wall.

That's how vile I am! I live Ireland, I breathe Ireland, and Christ how I loathe it, I wish I were a bloody Scot, that's how bloody awful it is being Irish! I think I hate Ireland more than I hate the theatre, and that's saying something!

My God, that bloody casket has fallen on the floor! Some people were hammering in the next flat and it fell off its bracket. The lid has come off and whatever was inside it has certainly got out. Upon the demon-ridden pilgrimage of human life, what next I wonder?

Christ, I loathe women. But I can't get going on the other tack either. And you needn't blush and look coy, I never fancied you. I know what you got up to with Fritzie Eitel! No—but I'd have had old Wilfred if he'd asked me. What did old Wilfred do for sex? No one ever knew. Perhaps he didn't have any, and if so good on him.

Charles, don't destroy yourself, said James. Why are you always so intent on breaking everything that surrounds and supports you?

What I really wanted just then was to put Georgie in cold storage. It is unfortunate that other human beings cannot be conveniently immobilized.

I'm just one long disappointment.

Her love for men had always been somehow neurotic and unfulfilled.

Oh how stupid I am, he said to himself, using words which he had used ever so often since he was a child. At that moment it seemed to him that his life had consisted of one blunder after another, and now aged thirty-one he was well on into the stupidest of all.

Living with someone who hates you is—it drives you mad—

Mary thought suddenly, this is an abomination, sitting here and having this conventional conversation when I feel so desperate and deprived and torn inside. She thought, is there nothing I can do about it?

It is unjust, it is so unjust, was her thought. I have never been recognized as myself.