Quotes About Frustration

Blah. It was as stupid as it was embarrassing and enervating.

I went to the refrigerator for a lite beer and discovered they were all gone. And at some later point I was sitting on the couch again. The television was on and I was trying to figure out what the actors were saying and why an invisible crowd thought it was the most hilarious dialogue of all time.

But out of the many ironies in my current unhappy contretemps, perhaps the worst of all is that I, Dexter the Monster, Dexter the Ultimate Outsider, Dexter the Nonhuman—I, too, am reduced in extremis to that ultimate human lament: Why Me?

while everyone in all the cars behind you swelters in the July sun that no air-conditioning can ever overcome

For some quixotic reason, Deborah had studied French in high school, and for a few seconds she apparently thought it was going to help her understand the man. She watched him as he raced through several paragraphs, and then finally shook her head. "Je nais comprend—Goddamn it, I can't remember how to say it. Dexter, get somebody up here to translate." The

Debs slapped the magazine away, making a thwack noise that sounded unnaturally loud in the hushed and clinical elegance of the waiting area. "I'm giving him five more minutes," she snarled.

They put it here because this guy is such a bugero.

I mean, shouldn't there be more? There's not even enough to add up to anything except another wage slave so dumb I even pay my taxes. And

I heard myself sigh heavily, and I wondered if this was really how it all ended; framed by a brainless thug, shunned by my colleagues, stalked by a whining computer nerd who couldn't even make it in minor-league baseball. It was well beyond ignoble, and very sad—I'd shown such tremendous early progress, too. The

As an assistant coach at Picayune High School, he helped a team that had gone 0–10 the year before…to go 0–10 again. "With all my expertise in coaching," he wrote, "we came close to winning a game.

worn-out shoes. Few of the men had anything solid on their feet, and the curses toward the supply officers went mostly unheeded by the officers, who had worries of their own.

He slapped one hand against the breech of the Thompson, slapped again, pulsing frustration, and said aloud, "Dammit!

knows where he is now. Not here, that's for sure. Hope the Krauts didn't grab him. Buford…Dammit!

He hated crowded, noisy restaurants and bars and on more than one occasion had walked out of upmarket establishments when the decibel level had proved to be too irritating.

dds are you've picked up this book because you're fed up with your child's distracted behavior. You're tired of the missed homework

Having an agenda to get rid of something or to change something is a common source of frustration in meditation practice. Change and transformation do occur through meditation, but only when you teach yourself to allow attention and awareness to include disturbing and unpleasant conditions like anxiety and panic.

Right away I started to panic, and I was running around looking for him. When I found him, he was standing behind a column, laughing at me. He was watching me the whole time and laughing. He thought it was funny, just a joke. I could have killed him.

The world, a tired performer, offers us another half-assed season.

Lux spent the ride dialing the radio for her favorite song. It makes me crazy, she said. You know they're playing it somewhere, but you have to find it.

You don't understand me. I'm a teenager. I've got problems!

She was always saying, 'Fuck this school,' or 'I can't wait until I get out of here.' But so did lots of kids.

Psychologists agree that adolescence is much more fraught with pressures and complexities than in years past. Often, in today's world, the extended childhood American life has bestowed on its young turns out to be a wasteland, where the adolescent feels cut off from both childhood and adulthood. Self-expression can often be frustrated. More and more, doctors say, this frustration can lead to acts of violence whose reality the adolescent cannot separate from the intended drama.

Let me phrase it like this—do you want to live in the kitchen for the next four days, sweating your ass off while you make a meal it will take twenty minutes to eat? Do you want to attack a pile of dishes for three hours afterward? Do you want to spend a week eating old turkey and cranberry sauce because

What is it about people casually eating apples that's so infuriating? There's nothing inherently aggravating about someone eating grapes or an orange, but an apple?