Quotes About Frustration

each door you open is the wrong one, you withdraw in confusion, you seem to be lost in the book with white pages, unable to get out of it.

mi sembra che il linguaggio venga sempre usato in modo approssimativo, casuale, sbadato, e ne provo un fastidio intollerabile.

For some time now, every novel I begin to write is exhausted shortly after the beginning, as if I had already said everything I have to say.

Here is page 31 again, page 32 ... and then what comes next? Page 17 all over again, a third time! What kind of book did they sell you, anyway? They bound together all these copies of the same signature, not another page in the whole book is any good.

I think up to a point people's characters depend on the toilets they have to shut themselves up in every day. You get home from the office and you find the toilet green with mould, marshy: so you smash a plate of peas in the passage and you shut yourself in your room and scream.

I went to an airport and asked for a wheelchair. There were three of us in wheelchairs and only two porters, so the guy took two of us at the same time. I cannot tell you how humiliating that is.

Growth has become addictive. Like heroin addiction, the habit distorts basic value judgments. Addicts of any kind are willing to pay increasing amounts for declining satisfactions. They have become tolerant to escalating marginal disutility. They are blind to deeper frustration because they are absorbed in playing for always mounting stakes.

Our husbands decide without asking our consent, or having our concurrence; for, to tell you the truth, I hate this boat, though I say nothing." Mary Shelley to Jane Williams, talking about the boat that Shelley and his friend Williams bought.

Our husbands decide without asking our consent, or having our concurrence; for, to tell you the truth, I hate this boat, though I say nothing." Mary Shelley to Jane Williams, talking the boat that Shelley and his friend Williams bought.

Imagine, if you will, what life would be like if you were not understood.

Nothing makes your sense of humor disappear faster than having somebody ask you where it is.

Nesre?a nesre?nih ljudi i jeste u tome što za njih stvari koje su ina?e zabranjene postanu, za trenutak dostižne i lake, ili bar tako izgledaju, a kada se jednom trajno usele u njihove želje, one se pokažu opet kao ono što jesu: nedostupne i zabranjene, sa svim posledicama koje to ima po one koji za njima ipak posegnu.

Het is altijd vervelend wanneer iemand je geen antwoord geeft of niet doet alsof hij je niet verstaat. Dat gebeurt op vergaderingen ook wel eens. De woorden blijven in de lucht hangen, zoals dat heet, en de betrokkene doet zijn uiterste best zijn verlegenheid en irritatie te verbergen door zich met een scherpe wending in zijn betoog tot iemand te richten die op dat moment toevallig in zijn richting kijkt.

It's so bad I could putt off a tabletop and still leave the ball halfway down the leg.

I'm sick of just liking people. I wish to God I could meet somebody I could respect.

I'd rather have a goddam horse. A horse is at least human, for God's sake.

People are always ruining things for you.

That's the thing about girls. Every time they do something pretty, even if they're not much to look at, or even if they're sort of stupid, you fall in love with them, and then you never know where the hell you are. Girls. Jesus Christ. They can drive you crazy. They really can.

We may feel angry because they don't guess who we are or what we want from them, because "if they really loved us," of course, they would be able to guess.

I've written for every medium except poetry, at which I suck.

Every time I got 'Amazing Spider-Man' or 'Fantastic Four' or another book firmly on the rails, we got pulled into some big event book or crossover and it cost momentum and messed badly with the pacing and structure of the book.

Damn! I thought, furious that even after expending my only rocket, I couldn't get the machine pistol; I was right back where I started, except one rocket lighter. I had squandered my gift! I felt like the guy who found a lamp that would grant one wish, and he says, "Jeez, I wish I knew what to wish for." I

whacking the ground, like a wife pounding her pillow, alone all night.

Bloody Men Bloody men are like bloody buses— You wait for about a year— And as soon as one approaches your stop Two or three others appear. You look at them flashing their indicators, Offering you a ride. You're trying to read the destinations, You haven't much time to decide. If you make a mistake, there is no turning back. Jump off, and you'll stand there and gaze While the cars and taxis and lorries go by And the minutes, the hours, the days. Wendy Cope