Quotes About Frustration

The thing was, Qhuinn felt like he wanted to explain things. Unfortunately, and unlike his slut cousin, Saxton the Cocksucker, he had no gift with words.

I'm sorry, he muttered. If I... uh, hurt your feelings or something. She glared at him. I'm not hurt. I'm pissed off and sexually frustrated. His head snapped back on his spine. Well... then. Okaaaaay.

So instead of sucking back some liquid sanity, he smoked the hand rolled down. Then he flicked the stub into the cold fireplace, closed his eyes and cursed three times…

She had the scattered feeling she always got when events conspired to mess things up, and nothing exhausted and frustrated her more than a mess she was incapable of fixing.

Why would I kill someone I don't know, when I know so many people who irritate me, and havent't killed any of them?

I can handle it. But it stinks, if you ask me, really stinks, that you get to go out somewhere drinking beer while I'm stuck at Baby Central. Just because you have a penis. We'll think fondly of you over beer, me and my penis. She ate a little more, then smiled slowly. You've still got to be in the birthing room when she pushes it out. Shut up, Eve. Your penis won't save you then, Pal.

Fuck him. Feeney made a sound like a man who'd been pinched. Christ Jesus, Dallas, you're in St. Pat's. If God's going to make little weasels like him, she's going to have to listen to complaints.

Eve-In the name of all that is holy...It's 2060, not 1760. Can't they figure out a better way to handle this process? Roarke-Amen

I'm not putting up with this, she continued. You can't even go out and buy a solar system without worrying I'll fall apart. How are you supposed to get anything done? Actually, I'm not in the market for a solar system right at the moment.

I'm a barrel of monkeys, kid, though mostly I figure monkeys stuck in a barrel are just going to be pissed off.

He wanted to heave the glasses against the wall. Break them, break everything he could reach. Beat it, rend it. He stared out the window, imagined the city in flames, consumed to ashes. And still it wasn't enough.

After they left the office, Peabody shoved her hands in her pockets. These nicknames are pissing me off. But you're not I'm-Too-Good-to-Pee-Body. Harris is. It's my damn name. And now I have to pee. It's like my bladder has to prove something. Pee at the bank. Consider it a deposit.

She didn't want the medi-techs. She wanted a fucking candy bar. [...] She reached down [...] and chose a Galaxy bar [...] I'm going home. You didn't pay for that, Francois shouted after her. Fuck you, Frank, she shouted back and kept going.

Why do you always have to put you and McNab and sex in my head? It brings pain no blocker can cure.

Why do they call it rush hour when it lasts days and nobody can rush anywhere?

She wondered why two people who loved each other to the point of stupid managed to aggravate each other as often as they seemed to.

She didn't want the medi-techs. She wanted a fucking a candy bar.

Eve sucked air through her nose. The next person, the very next person, who says that is going to know my wrath. I'm on a first-name basis with your wrath, sir. I guess this isn't the best time to tell you that McNab and I are thinking of cohabitating. Oh my God. My eye. Desperate, Eve pressed her fist to the twitch. Not while I'm driving.

You enjoyed your honeymoon? Christ, she thought, when was someone going to ask if she'd enjoyed being fucked around the world and into outer space? Yes, sir. Thank you.

Why does there have to be a gift for every damn thing?" Eve complained. "Retail conspiracy." Roarke patted her knee. "I bet it is," Eve said darkly. "I just bet it is.

It's lunacy out there. Christmas makes people insane. And that bit about goodwill toward men? It sure as hell doesn't apply to retail.

It's a damn small world when it sucks.

Traffic was a bitch, but, then again, Eve thought, so was she.

But, Christ on a tricycle, Roarke, this is going to be a pain in my ass.