Quotes About Frustration

He was keeping his pants zipped, which actually wasn't as hard as it seemed, even after he'd gone for well over nine months without getting laid.

Jenk shook his head as he headed for the rental car counter. He felt his shoulders tightening as he walked away, certain that Izzy wasn't quite ready to be silent or invisible yet. He was halfway there when Izzy shouted, "Jenkins! I wish I could quit yew!" Of course. The obligatory Brokeback Mountain reference. Jenk flipped Zanella a double bird without bothering to look back.

Go fuck yourself!—Dan said genuinely pissed off. Izzy---I've found that I'm a little shy for such blatantly public display of self-affection. Besides, I like to be wined and dined before I have my way with myself. I'm an old-fashioned kind of guy.

The idea of being strong for someone else having never entered their heads, I find myself in the position of having to console them. Since I'm the person going in to be slaughtered, this is somewhat annoying.

What about you?" "Not a clue. I keep wishing I could bake a cake or something.

That's very funny," says Peeta. Suddenly he lashes out at the glass in Haymitch's hand. It shatters on the floor, sending the bloodred liquid running toward the back of the train. "Only not to us.

It's hard to hate my prep team. They're such total idiots." - Katniss.

I pound on the glass, screaming my head off. Everyone ignores me except for some Capitol attendant who appears behind me and offers me a beverage.

It'd be better if he were easier to hate.

Its hard to hate my prep team. They're such total idiots.

Suddenly I am furious, that with my life on the line, they don't even have the decency to pay attention to me. That I'm being upstaged by a dead pig.

Maybe everyone is just trying to protect me by lying to me. I don't care. I'm sick of people lying to me for my own good.

Most rats read. Our frustration is, we cannot hold a pen to write.

I'm running on hate. When the energy from that ebbs I'll be worthless.

That should have been my strategy! By the time I've worked through the emotions of surprise, admiration, anger, jealousy, and frustration, I'm watching that reddish mane of hair disappear into the trees well out of shooting range.

Why am I hopping around like some trained dog trying to please people I hate?

so people really do tear out their hair and beat the ground with their fists

I'm sick of people lying to me for my own good.

It's hard to hate my prep team. They're such total idiots. And yet, in an odd way, I know they're sincerely trying to help me.

I just need five more minutes, he pleaded with the universe. Even two will do. The universe ignored him.

Sería mejor si fuera más fácil odiarlo.

Then I am pushing through the crowd, just as I did before. Trying to shout out her name above the roar. I'm almost there, almost to the barricade when I think she hears me. Because just for a moment, she catches sight of me, her lips form my name. And that's when the rest of the parachutes go off.

How is he?" "He's a royal pain, frankly. He eats three times as much as the rest of us, yet he can't seem to get the knack of hunting. If we don't feed him he whines. So, of course, we do feed him and then he grows another six inches and whines louder.

I give up, sweetheart. Just answer the questions and try not to let the audience see how openly you despise them.