Best 777 quotes in «boredom quotes» category

You searched through all my poets, From Sappho through to Auden, I saw the book fall from your hands, As you slowly died of boredom.

Abaratians are very much about living in the moment; living life because that's what we've got, we've got today, we've got now, we've got being alive now and we have to be awake and alive in the moment and not asleep in our lives. And they would find the idea of sleeping through your life, of being bored - they would think that was very stupid - why would you be bored when there's so much to do and so much to see and so much to be?

À cette heure, elle voulut le mal, le mal que personne ne commet, le mal qui allait emplir son existence vide et la mettre enfin dans cet enfer dont elle avait toujours peur.

A child develops best when, like a young plant, he is left undisturbed in the same soil. Too much travel, too much variety of impressions, are not good for the young, and cause them as they grow up to become incapable of enduring fruitful monotony.

A dull routine is hell. People need something to be enthusiastic about.

A lot of impulsive mistakes are made by people who simply aren’t willing to stay bored a little longer.

After much effort to live up to a glorious standard there came fatigue, wan hope, and boredom. I experienced extreme boredom. I saw others experiencing it too, many denying, by the way, that any such thing existed. And finally I decided that I would make boredom my subject matter. That I'd study it. That I'd become the world's leading authority on it. March, that was a red-letter day for humanity. What a field! What a domain! Titanic! Promethean! I trembled before it. I was inspired. I couldn't sleep. Ideas came in the night and I wrote them down, volumes of them. Strange that no one had gone after this systematically. Oh, melancholy, yes, but not modern boredom.

All men, reaching back to Adam in the Garden, plead Ignorance as their defence; when, if we were but honest, we would admit that the apple was hedged with every warning imaginable. So I too fell; perhaps all sins are not causes but effects, being the result of that first sin, Boredom.

All suffer and none should have to. But why not? If suffering makes life seem more real or more abstract, both circumstances are infinitely more bearable than the disturbing reality of mundane work-to-live-then-die-bored life.

All great books contain boring portions, and all great lives have contained uninteresting stretches. Imagine a modern American publisher confronted with the Old Testament as a new manuscript submitted to him for the first time. It is not difficult to think what his comments would be, for example, on the genealogies. 'My dear sir,' he would say, 'this chapter lacks pep; you can't expect your reader to be interested in a mere string of proper names of persons about whom you tell so little. You have begun your story, I admit, in fine style, and at first I was very favourably impressed, but you have altogether too much wish to tell it all. Pick out the highlights, take out the superfluous matter, and bring me back your manuscript when you have reduced it to a reasonable length.' So the modern publisher would speak, knowing the modern reader's fear of boredom.

Already a connoisseur of boredom, Tony extended his acquaintance with Salisbury's furnished lodgings and the cheap residential hotels of Andover.

And besides, I couldn't stay at the party. It was too dangerous. I nearly died." "From what?" "Boredom.

Am Anfang merkt man noch nicht viel davon. Man hat eines Tages keine Lust mehr irgendetwas zu tun. Nichts interessiert einen, man ödet sich. Aber diese Unlust verschwindet nicht wieder, sondern sie bleibt und nimmt langsam immer mehr zu. Sie wird schlimmer von Tag zu Tag, von Woche zu Woche. Man fühlt sich immer missmutiger, immer leerer im Innern, immer unzufriedener mit sich und der Welt. Dann hört nach und nach sogar dieses Gefühl auf und man fühlt gar nichts mehr. Man wird ganz gleichgültig und grau, die ganze Welt kommt einem fremd vor und geht einen nichts mehr an. Es gibt keinen Zorn mehr und keine Begeisterung, man kann sich nicht mehr freuen und nicht mehr trauern, man verlernt das Lachen und das Weinen. Dann ist es kalt geworden in einem und man kann nichts und niemand mehr lieb haben. Wenn es einmal so weit gekommen ist, dann ist die Krankheit unheilbar. Es gibt keine Rückkehr mehr. Man hastet mit leerem, grauem Gesicht umher, man ist genauso geworden wie die grauen Herren selbst. Ja, dann ist man einer der ihren. Diese Krankheit heißt: die tödliche Langeweile.

And allow me again to assure you that when you've got yourself going, doing your True Will, you won't find you have any time to get bored.

And we were in our thirties. Well into the Age of Boredom, when nothing is new. Now, I’m not being self-pitying; it’s simply true. Newness, or whatever you want to call it, becomes a very scarce commodity after thirty. I think that’s unfair. If I were in charge of the human life span, I’d make sure to budget newness much more selectively, to ration it out. As it is now, it’s almost used up in the first three years of life. By then you’ve seen for the first time, tasted for the first time, held something for the first time. Learned to walk, talk, go to the bathroom. What have you got to look forward to that can compare with that? Sure, there’s school. Making friends. Falling in love. Learning to drive. Sex. Learning to trade. That has to carry you for the next twenty-five years. But after that? What’s the new excitement? Mastering your home computer? Figuring out how to work CompuServe? “Now, if it were up to me, I’d parcel out. So that, say, at thirty-five we just learned how to go on the potty. Imagine the feeling of accomplishment! They’d have office parties. "Did you hear? The vice president in charge of overseas development just went a whole week without his diaper. We’re buying him a gift." It’d be beautiful.

And it came to him then, as clearly and as certainly as if he had been watching it on the big screen at the Odeon, Leicester Square: the rest of his life. He would go home tonight with the girl from Computer Services, and they would make gentle love, and tomorrow, it being Saturday, they would spend the morning in bed. And then they would get up, and together they would remove his possessions from the packing cases, and put them away. In a year, or a little less, he would marry the girl from Computer Services, and get another promotion, and they would have two children, a boy and a girl, and they would move out to the suburbs, to Harrow or Croydon or Hampstead or even as far away as distant Reading. And it would not be a bad life. He knew that, too. Sometimes there is nothing you can do.

and now i am back in the grey world where it tastes like plastic, the monotony is buzzing through my jaws and the boredom is pulling my hair.

And yes, life is mostly boring, and we each go through it feeling ugly or like a failure, but sometimes the sun cuts through a tree line just right, or you get to hold someone's hand for the first time.

An entrepreneur is born, when a person has more reasons to drive his dreams against his excuses.

Anyhow, I had found something out about an unknown privation, and I realized how a general love or craving, before it is explicit or before it sees its object, manifests itself as boredom or some other kind of suffering. And what did I think of myself in relation to the great occasions, the more sizable being of these books? Why, I saw them, first of all. So suppose I wasn't created to read a great declaration, or to boss a palatinate, or send off a message to Avignon, and so on, I could see, so there nevertheless was a share for me in all that had happened. How much of a share? Why, I knew there were things that would never, because they could never, come of my reading. But this knowledge was not so different from the remote but ever-present death that sits in the corner of the loving bedroom; though it doesn't budge from the corner, you wouldn't stop your loving. Then neither would I stop my reading. I sat and read. I had no eye, ear, or interest for anything else--that is, for usual, second-order, oatmeal, mere-phenomenal, snarled-shoelace-carfare-laundry-ticket plainness, unspecified dismalness, unknown captivities; the life of despair-harness or the life of organization-habits which is meant to supplant accidents with calm abiding. Well, now, who can really expect the daily facts to go, toil or prisons to go, oatmeal and laundry tickets and the rest, and insist that all moments be raised to the greatest importance, demand that everyone breathe the pointy, star-furnished air at its highest difficulty, abolish all brick, vaultlike rooms, all dreariness, and live like prophets or gods? Why, everybody knows this triumphant life can only be periodic. So there's a schism about it, some saying only this triumphant life is real and others that only the daily facts are. For me there was no debate, and I made speed into the former.

Animals can be understimulated, but hardly bored.

Be bold, don't be boring.

As this went on, I realised that it is more tiring to be bored than to be engaged.

As a subconscious attempt to add meaning or purpose to their life: The unemployed pray for a job; the retired pray for grandchildren.

Because my life is empty window of nothingness punctuated by meaningless details of totally mundane non-events.

Before I shall have become a man again I shall probably exist as a park, a sort of natural park in which people come to rest, to while away the time. What they say or do will be of little matter, for they will bring only their fatigue, their boredom, their hopelessness.

Before you get bored of yourself try creativity in your life.

Being bored is the price we pay for not being insane.

Boredom comes from a boring mind.

Boredom doesn't exist where creativity lives.

Boredom is actually a sign of ambition. So act on it.

Boredom is certainly not an evil to be taken lightly: it will ultimately etch lines of true despair onto a face. It makes beings with as little love for each other as humans nonetheless seek each other with such intensity, and in this way becomes the source of sociability.

Boredom is probably more frequent and more tormenting if you do not have sight or hands.

Boredom is the fear of self.

Boredom is your soul's way of telling you to step up and do what you were born to.

Boredom presents a very real, if insidious peril. To quote Blaine Harden from the Washington post:“Boredom kills, and those it does not kill, it cripples, and those it does not cripple, it bleeds like a leech, leaving its victims pale, insipid, and brooding. Examples abound...Rats kept in comfortable isolation quickly become jumpy, irritable, and aggressive. Their bodies twitch, their tails grow scaly." The backcountry traveler, then, in addition to developing such skills as the use of a map and compass, or the prevention and treatment of blisters, must prepare mentally and materially to cope with boredom, lest his tail grow scaly.

Bored with the upsetting realities of the day? Then leave yourself to the calming mysteries of the night!

Boredom is that agitated space between relaxation and action; dialed down, it can become a pleasant kind of inertia or a meditative stillness, where it feels good to sit quietly with your own thoughts; cranked up a notch, it can produce creative release. But that middle place is the boredom itself – restlessness with no movement. A dull and desperate longing for something else. From Catastrophic Happiness.

Bored people find the bravery to do strange things.

Boldel de saclé nom de Dieu ! dit alors en bâillant le bébé sur le plancher. Boldel de saclé nom de Dieu, quelle famille ! Vous avez pas un journal ou quelque chose ? On s'emmelde ici !

Boredom can be incredibly productive. It's the fear of boredom that's so destructive.

Boredom is a symptom of a conditioned and closed mind. If you are bored, you’re doing yourself a tremendous disservice. Open your mind, break-free from your conditioned routine, and reignite the flames of excitement and discovery.

Boredom is the Devil's delight.

Boredom was at the root of Lazare's unhappiness, an oppressive, unremitting boredom, exuding from everything like the muddy water of a poisoned spring. He was bored with leisure, with work, with himself even more than with others. Meanwhile he blamed his own idleness for it, he ended by being ashamed of it.

Bosan adalah ibu dari segala sesuatu yang bergerak.. Dan terpujilah mereka-mereka yang bergerak.

Boredom is the price one pays for not enjoying everything.

Boredom, like hookworm, is endemic.

Boredom was my bedmate and it was hogging the sheets.

Boring is the right thought at the wrong time.

Borkin: Ladies and gentlemen, why are you so glum? Sitting there like a jury after it's been sworn in! ... Let's think up something. What would you like? Forfeits, tug of war, catch, dancing, fireworks?