Quotes About Frustration

So she satisfied her urge to kick at him by leaning back, palms down on the table. It was a good thing they weren't near the food, otherwise, her hair would've been in the coffee.

She moaned. "We can't just keep having sex." "Why not? We've got months of frustration built up.

Damn it, Honor, what do I do with an Ancient mother-in-law who thinks I'm a bug?" One that had infested the life of Caliane's beloved son.

I'll have an aneurysm with that much togetherness.

Mercy made a sound of frustration. "I hate waiting." "Leopards are good stalkers." "The human half of me prefers action.

I want to mutilate and torture every person on the planet who in any way supported Santano or Tatiana, break them until they beg and crawl. Then I want to tell them it'll never end.

Blue stars crackled, spat. "Why they don't speak to me!

The Good Humor man can only be pushed so far.

Low down dirty ornery rotten skunk of a cussed mule-headed soldier! What's he want with my book anyway? And what kind of a way is that to write a congratulations? I am so mad I could walk clear to that fort and take him on single handed.

Maybe part of passing that test was a marker for where I've been, but it feels more like a pointer for something I'll never reach

It's not fair, men get to go off and chase around the country and get medals for doing stupid things and women get to sit home and worry.

But I saved my breath. The likes of her isn't going to listen nor be changed in the mind just from hearing sense. Some people sense is wasted on and that's purely a fact.

I'm about fed up with men right now. It's just trouble, always trying to figure what one's got caught in his craw that he isn't telling.

Taking up marriage is a good excuse for taking up cursing, I think.

That man makes me feel like I have my bonnet on backwards.

AutoCorrect can go duck itself.

That woman grinds my grits, and that's a fact.

This is such a cozy shop, it makes me want to take up knitting." "You should. It's a very relaxing hobby." I don't know how I kept a straight face, saying things like that. Knitting was a diabolical exercise in frustration.

She wondered if she should have explained herself more clearly. She could not explain herself at all. There were no words, no permitted words, to explain anything that she wanted to say. All the words that could have communicated it had been banned, not only from her mouth but even from her mind. She was reduced to mere actions, which are both more and less than words.

And there was a throbbing in my head, a kind of pressure from the inside, and I found that I was shouting. I can't remember everything I said. I know it wasn't all about egg sandwiches. I remember that I said, "It's no wonder that I hate you so much, because you never listen!" I remember that I said, "I wish I were dead like my mother!

The third prescription had even less effect in lifting my depression than the first two and had done nothing but increase my anger and feeling of hopelessness.

But one of the frustrating symptoms of my depression and anxiety is that I had no attention span at all. I would read one paragraph and then realize that I had no idea what I had just read, or I'd accidentally reread the same paragraph, over and over. I was desperate to find articles or research by someone who understood what I was going through.

But the world I wanted wasn't the world I lived in, and if I would do nothing until I could repair every terrible thing at once, I would do nothing forever.

I am very tired of this Government, which I have never seen, and which is always insisting that I must do disagreeable things, and does no good to anybody.