Dean Inge Quotes

To expect too much is to have a sentimental view of life and this is a softness that ends in bitterness.

I really am disappointed when I run into people who are angry I'm leaving office.

I was very bitter, frustrated, hurt, angry - I went through all types of emotions when I first was out of the WNBA.

When your outlet is taken away from you, when your catharsis is stripped from you and you don't understand why, and you're so disappointed, and you're so blindsided by it, it hurts.

I hate you all because you destroy my dreams!

One sometimes weeps over one's illusions with as much bitterness as over a death.

Expectations are resentment waiting to happen.

...the moron who thought love was forever.

A cynic is a kind of romantic who has aged.

Hope hurt more than the cold.

I'll think about something else. I'll just sit quietly. If I could sit still. If I could sit still, maybe I could read. Oh, all the books are about people who love each other, truly and sweetly. What do they want to write about that for? Don't they know it isn't true? Don't they know it's a lie, it's a God-damned lie? What do they have to tell about that for, when they know how it hurts?

I thought this man had long ago drained everything from my heart. But now something strong and bitter flowed and made me feel another emptiness in a place I didn't know was there. I cursed this man aloud so he could hear. You had dog eyes. You jumped and followed whoever called you. Now you chase your own tail.

I felt suddenly cruel, like I´d told dmall children there was no tooth fairy, that it was just their Mom sneaking into their room after they went to bed.

Resentment slowly poisoned my blood and I laughed at myself and my absurd hopes.

Hope, how she had grown to hate the word. It was an insideious seed planted inside a person's soul, surviving covertly on little tending, then flowering so spectacularly that none could help but cherish it.

Looking at it, I started crying. Maybe it was knowing that I had to give up the fantasy, the enormous life consuming fantasy , that someone or something was going to do this for me – the fantasy that someone was coming to lead my life, to choose direction, to give me orgasms.

It's true/ I do imbue my blue unto myself/ I make it bitter.

As a child there's a horror in discovering the limitations of the ones you love. The time you find that your mother cannot keep you safe, that your tutor makes a mistake, that the wrong path must be taken because the grown-ups lack the strength to take the right one...each of those moments is the theft of your childhood, each of them a blow that kills some part of the child you were, leaving another part of the man exposed, a new creature, tougher but tempered with bitterness and disappointment.

Thwarted lives have the most character-conditioned hate

He sharpened his flaws and disappointments into daggers.

The only people who become disillusioned are people who have illusions.

And the past held only this wisdom: that love was a damaging mistake, and its accomplice, hope, a treacherous illusion. And whenever those twin poisonous flowers began to sprout in the parched land of that field, Mariam uprooted them. She uprooted them and ditched them before they took hold.

..."better to have loved and lost" bullshit. Don't show me paradise and then burn it down.

I think I am becoming incapable of being too surprised. But it just makes me sad and sick.

We are tired who follow after fantasy and truth that flies: You with only look and laughter stain our hearts with richest dyes.