Quotes About Frustration

He read books. He liked none of them. He searched their pages for Amy. She was not there. He went to parties. They bored him. He walked the streets, gazing into strangers' faces. Amy was not there. The world, in all its infinite wonder, bored him. He searched every room of his life for Amy. But Amy was not anywhere to be found.

Loneliness, I've read, is like being in a long line, waiting to reach the front where it's promised something good will happen. Only the line never moves, and other people are always coming in ahead of you, and the front, the place where you want to be, is always farther and farther away until you no longer believe it has anything to offer you.

On writing: I don't like doing this, but it feels so good when I stop.

Greater challenges might only have frustrated him and rendered him unhappy.

The people in charge blame the whites, blame the parents, blame the teachers, blame the students, and now they're blaming the buildings. The facilities are run-down because they haven't maintained them properly. They say there's no money for maintenance, but they spend a fortune on hiring consultant after consultant. Oh my God, so many consultants when we didn't have any textbooks or paper.

In fact I thought life was pretty much a losing proposition, and I didn't mind saying so.

I was sayin' let me out of here before I was even born.

People are sheep, Ringil raged. Moronic fucking sheep.

Like all lotteries, it was an attempt to distract and dilute labor force discontent with irrational hope.

Jealousy is always a mask for fear: fear that we aren't able to get what we want; frustration that somebody else seems to be getting what is rightfully ours even if we are too frightened to reach for it. At its root, jealousy is a stingy emotion.

We want to set aside time for our creative work, but we feel we should do something else instead. As blocked creatives, we focus not on our responsibilities to ourselves, but on our responsibilities to others. We tend to think such behavior makes us good people. It doesn't. It makes us frustrated people.

When we feel anger, we are often very angry that we feel anger.

Remember that it is far harder and more painful to be a blocked artist than it is to do the work.

I admired the English immensely for all that they had endured, and they were certainly honorable, and stopped their cars for pedestrians, and called you "sir" and "madam," and so on. But after a week there, I began to feel wild. It was those ruddy English faces, so held in by duty, the sense of "what is done" and "what is not done," and always swigging tea and chirping, that made me want to scream like a hyena

After we'd moved into 81, we had placed an order for a phone, and waited. First a man came by to see if we lived where we said we did. Then two men visited to make a study of our situation. Then another man appeared to find out if we really wanted a phone. The process was very French, and made me laugh, especially when I thought of how quickly such a transaction would have taken place in the States.

Cubans tend to have personal and complex relationships with Fidel Castro, often combining feelings of veneration, respect, or love with frustration or even hate.

My train was late, slowed by the usual Sunday engineering work. I got home in the early evening. I remember that I had a bloody good long shit.

your lovemaking has become less a search for consolation than a hopeless attempt to deny your mutual unhappiness.

de sus acreedores, su madre no tuvo más remedio que vender algunas tierras. ¡Quinientos francos en guantes! ¿El oso blanco con guantes blancos? Qué va, qué va; más bien el loro enguantado.

I tried to save her, I failed. I tried to stop her drinking, I failed. I don't blame her, it's way beyond that. And I remember what you told me back then—that she was more likely to get hurt than me. But I can't take it anymore. I can't face another ten days of it, let alone another ten years. So Martha's going to look after her.

You still don't get it. You never did, and you never will. So stop even trying.

Th' poxy, slivey, cuntbitten shicers!

She feels sick. She hates this world.

Time spent with the man was a bit like spending time with sand down one's trousers.