Best 285 quotes in «unhappiness quotes» category

The air in my home is heavy with my mom's unhappiness. And her exhaustion. And her sheer dissatisfaction with her life. And I hate it. I can be up in my room when she's in the kitchen below and I feel her despair seeping up through the floorboards. You can hear her banging pots and pans or cursing the vacuum cleaner

The ego is an illusion. The more we submit to its cravings, the more unhappy we become.

The moral of the story is that seeking truth, rather than fear of pain or the desire for happiness, is the correct orientation toward inner work, since seeking happiness makes you its prisoner just as surely as does pain.

The gaudy colouring with which she veiled her unhappiness afforded as little real comfort as the gay uniform of the soldier when it is drawn over his mortal wound.

The happiest people are not those who have the most, but those who are the most grateful for what they have.

The incremental value of wealth declines as we become richer. Yet people keep on accumulating it. They think that more is better. Hence, when they fail to get happiness even after becoming wealthy, instead of looking for the appropriate reason for their unhappiness, they blame lack of greater wealth for the lack of happiness and work even harder to make more money with the hope of buying happiness with money.

The key to happiness is a regular dose of unhappiness.

The lack of power is the source of all unhappiness

The more money you spend on guns, the less money you spend on people! More weapons, less happiness; more guns, more misery!

The more we veer away from our true nature, the more unhappy we feel. When we align with our better self, we feel happy and content again.

The natural state of the sentient adult is a qualified unhappiness.

The more I understand the mind and the human experience, the more I begin to suspect there is no such thing as unhappiness; there is only ungratefulness.

The pursuit of happiness is one of the most common symptoms of intellectual immaturity.

Then she told herself to stop her nonsense. If you looked for things to make you feel hurt and wretched and unnecessary, you were certain to find them, more easily each time, so easily, soon, that you did not even realize you had gone out searching.

The primary cause of unhappiness is never the situation but your thoughts about it. Be aware of the thoughts you are thinking. Separate them from the situation, which is always neutral, which always is as it is.

There is a lot of unhappiness in this world. Try not to feed it.

There had been no enemies, just one single adversary, herself; her future had been killed by her own imprudence, by the reckless Salina pride; and now, just at the moment when her memories had come alive again after so many years, she found herself even without the solace of being able to blame her own unhappiness on others, a solace which is the last protective device of the desperate.

The whole world is festering with unhappy souls: The French hate the Germans, the Germans hate the Poles' Italians hate Yugoslavs, South Africans hate the Dutch; and I don't like anybody very much!

The researchers summarized: "A human mind is a wandering mind, and a wandering mind is an unhappy mind. The ability to think about what is not happening is a cognitive achievement that comes at an emotional cost.". Long ago, Buddhists reached much the same conclusion.

There is so much we don’t understand. And so much unhappiness comes because of that.

The surest way to be unhappy is to depend on someone else to make you happy.

Thinking is a sign of disturbance. When your bladder doesn't hurt you don't think about it.

The worst thing in the face of other's unhappiness is your happiness.

To be happy, you have to risk being unhappy.

This is what I think now; that the natural state of the sentient adult is a qualified unhappiness. I think also that in an adult the desire to be finer in grain than you are, "a constant striving" (as those people say who gain their bread by saying it) only adds to this unhappiness in the end--that end that comes to our youth and hope.

Toronto is the greatest and happiest city on earth, but despite that — maybe because of that — it made me unhappy, as I just lived in an apartment there, never seeing anyone. Once I went to watch the Blue Jays play baseball, but being surrounded by so many people who I knew I could never connect with was the thing that made me want to [leave].

To sacrifice one's unhappiness for a good cause is something I fervently believe in.

Unhappiness in one place doesn't breed happiness elsewhere. It just breeds more unhappiness.

Unhappiness and dissatisfaction with life are common themes in the American culture today. Folks sometimes mistake my meaning when I say, “You have the freedom of choice and the ability to create your best life”, because they all too often rush to drop everything that is weighing them down. They quit the job, ditch the unhappy marriage, cut out negative friends and family, get out of Dodge, etc. I do not advocate such hastiness; in fact, I believe that rash decision-making leads to more problems further down the road. Another unsatisfying job manifests; another unhappy relationship results. These people want a new environment, yet the same negative energy always seems to occupy it. This is because transformation is all about the internal shift, not the external. Any blame placed on outside sources for our unhappiness will forever perpetuate that unhappiness. Pointing the finger is giving away your power of choice and the ability to create our best life. We choose: “That person is making me unhappy” vs. “I make myself happy.” When you are in unhappy times of lack and feelings of separation – great! Sit there and be with it. Find ways to be content with little. Find ways to be happy with your Self. As we reflect on the lives of mystics past and present, it is not the things they possess or the relationships they share that bring them enlightenment – their light is within. The same light can bring us unwavering happiness (joy). Love, Peace, Joy – these three things all come from within and have an unwavering flame – life source – that is not dependent on the conditions of the outside world. This knowing is the power and wisdom that the mystics teach us that we are all capable of achieving. When I say, “You have the freedom of choice and the ability to create your best life”, I am not referring to external conditions; I am referring to the choice you have to look inward and discover the ability to transform the lead of the soul into gold. Transformation is an inner journey of the soul. Why? Because, as we mentioned above, wherever we go, ourselves go with us. Thus, quitting the job, dumping relationships, etc. will not make us happy because we have forgotten the key factor that makes or breaks our happiness: ourselves. When we find, create, and maintain peace, joy, and love within ourselves, we then gain the ability to embrace the external world with the same emotions, perspective, and vibration. This ability is a form of enlightenment. It is the modern man’s enlightenment that transforms an unsatisfying life into one of fulfillment.

Unhappy! of course you'll be unhappy. Who the devil are you that you shouldn't be unhappy, like the mother that bore you?

Unhappiness is a place we reach where we become prisoners to our own thoughts of unhappiness. It is dopamine working in reverse.

Unhappiness is the resultant of what you desire and happiness of what you don't.

...unhappiness was something you got used to or something that passed.

Unhappiest is the person who feels happy when seeing an unhappy person!

Unhappiness slowly creeps up on you, like a shape-shifting monster waiting in the darkness of your hallway, his bulging eyes watching your every move. The breath on his slimy tongue makes the hairs on your neck stand up.

Unhappiness isn't at its most acute point until a realistic chance of happiness, sufficiently close, has been envisioned.

Unhappiness really meant something back then. Now it's just a drag, like a cold or having no money. If you really wanted to mess me up, you should have got to me earlier.

Unhappiness is often caused by tendency to find fault with others.

We are constantly taught in both in what we read, and what we see on the TV be it consciously and subconsciously, that being unhappy is not normal. Every time we read or hear about how we should be feeling happy, and how we need to go about it, and for whatever reason we aren’t at that moment in time, well, you feel that’s something must be wrong with you. “What’s wrong with me, I should be feeling happy in my life, but I’m not. Every article I have read says all those steps on how to be happy, but they don’t seem to work for me, I am still unhappy.” You come to see unhappiness as some kind of problem with you, with your personality. Something not normal at all. But it is. It is very normal. It is part of every human being, it is a part of you, it is part of who you are. You’ve got to first of all understand and acknowledge that feeling unhappy is nothing but normal and it isn’t something you should be afraid of. It only means that your emotions are functioning well and are taking care of you by keeping you up to date with the truth.

Wanna know the fastest way to unhappiness? Spend your time judging other people's reasons for happiness! That way, you'll quickly lose your own! The next time you look back at yourself (when you've taken a break from judging others) you'll think "Oh! Where did MY happiness go?" because you were too busy thinking that gay people shouldn't be happy... or, you know, something like that.

We almost never think of the present, and it we do think of it, it is only to see what light it throws on our plans for the future. The present is never our end. The past and present are out means, the future alone our end. Thus we never actually live, but hope to live, and since we are always planning how to be happy, it is inevitable that we should never be so. (Page 10)

We are sometimes dragged into a pit of unhappiness by someone else’s opinion that we do not look happy.

We are sometimes depressed by our failure to convince people who strongly believe that we are that we are definitely not depressed.

We are unhappy because we think that love is something we require from someone else.

We never keep to the present. We recall the past; we anticipate the future as if were found it too slow in coming and were trying to hurry it up, or we recall the past as if to stay it's too rapid flight. We are so unwise that we wander about in times that do not belong to us, and do not think of the only one that does; so vain that we dream of times that are not and blindly flee the only one that is. The fact is the present usually hurts. We thrust it out of sight because it distresses us, and if we find it enjoyable, we are sorry to see it slip away. We try to give it the support of the future, and think how we are going to arrange things over which we have no control for a time we can never be sure of reaching. (Page 9)

We can always choose not what we see but how we look at what we see.

What are the dead, anyway, but waves and energy? Light shining from a dead star? That, by the way, is a phrase of Julian's. I remember it from a lecture of his on the Iliad, when Patroklos appears to Achilles in a dream. There is a very moving passage where Achilles overjoyed at the sight of the apparition – tries to throw his arms around the ghost of his old friend, and it vanishes. The dead appear to us in dreams, said Julian, because that's the only way they can make us see them; what we see is only a projection, beamed from a great distance, light shining at us from a dead star… Which reminds me, by the way, of a dream I had a couple of weeks ago. I found myself in a strange deserted city – an old city, like London – underpopulated by war or disease. It was night; the streets were dark, bombed-out, abandoned. For a long time, I wandered aimlessly – past ruined parks, blasted statuary, vacant lots overgrown with weeds and collapsed apartment houses with rusted girders poking out of their sides like ribs. But here and there, interspersed among the desolate shells of the heavy old public buildings, I began to see new buildings, too, which were connected by futuristic walkways lit from beneath. Long, cool perspectives of modern architecture, rising phosphorescent and eerie from the rubble. I went inside one of these new buildings. It was like a laboratory, maybe, or a museum. My footsteps echoed on the tile floors.There was a cluster of men, all smoking pipes, gathered around an exhibit in a glass case that gleamed in the dim light and lit their faces ghoulishly from below. I drew nearer. In the case was a machine revolving slowly on a turntable, a machine with metal parts that slid in and out and collapsed in upon themselves to form new images. An Inca temple… click click click… the Pyramids… the Parthenon. History passing beneath my very eyes, changing every moment. 'I thought I'd find you here,' said a voice at my elbow. It was Henry. His gaze was steady and impassive in the dim light. Above his ear, beneath the wire stem of his spectacles, I could just make out the powder burn and the dark hole in his right temple. I was glad to see him, though not exactly surprised. 'You know,' I said to him, 'everybody is saying that you're dead.' He stared down at the machine. The Colosseum… click click click… the Pantheon. 'I'm not dead,' he said. 'I'm only having a bit of trouble with my passport.' 'What?' He cleared his throat. 'My movements are restricted,' he said. 'I no longer have the ability to travel as freely as I would like.' Hagia Sophia. St. Mark's, in Venice. 'What is this place?' I asked him. 'That information is classified, I'm afraid.' 1 looked around curiously. It seemed that I was the only visitor. 'Is it open to the public?' I said. 'Not generally, no.' I looked at him. There was so much I wanted to ask him, so much I wanted to say; but somehow I knew there wasn't time and even if there was, that it was all, somehow, beside the point. 'Are you happy here?' I said at last. He considered this for a moment. 'Not particularly,' he said. 'But you're not very happy where you are, either.' St. Basil's, in Moscow. Chartres. Salisbury and Amiens. He glanced at his watch. 'I hope you'll excuse me,' he said, 'but I'm late for an appointment.' He turned from me and walked away. I watched his back receding down the long, gleaming hall.

When you are unhappy, do not resist it! Let your unhappiness do its turn. After that the turn comes to the happiness!

What he had was what he pretended.

What I know of love is satisfaction, Contentment, pleasure, and vivaciousness. But all my envisions were all fictions. 'Cause there's no such thing as pure happiness.