Mary Karr Quotes

The want of a thing is perplexing enough, but the possession of it, is intolerable.

I reached a point in my life where I didn't really like who I was.I was married to an amazing woman. I had children, and yet there was frustration.

My lord. It is too much, and not enough

All is going well, very well, I couldn’t ask for anything better— So why do I hate my life?

I guess I've always lived upside down when I want things I can't have.

There are things that bother me. I try not to let them, but they do.

Ours is a world where people don't know what they want and are willing to go through hell to get it.

One's too many, and a hundred's not enough.

The man who is dissatisfied with himself, what can he do?

I am becoming used to an overwhelming, grinding mixture of anger and worry.

Nothing had happened yet in my life except the need to get out of it.

I feel too much. It's like being drummed to death from within. You know?

Life! Don't talk to me about life!

And ask each passenger to tell his story, and if there is one of them all who has not cursed his existence many times, and said to himself over and over again that he was the most miserable of men, I give you permission to throw me head-first into the sea.

My final belief is suffering. And I begin to believe that I do not suffer.

I don't know what I am, but this isn't happiness.

I am too much in love with my lies and hypocrisies not to confess them fervently.

I've got to have something. I want to stop it all, the whole monumental grotesque joke, before it's too late. But writing poems and letters doesn't seem to do much good.

God, is this all it is, the ricocheting down the corridor of laughter and tears? Of self-worship and self-loathing? Of glory and disgust?

I was tired and crazy and rushed, and every time I boarded a plane, I wanted the plane to crash. I envied people dying of cancer. I hated my life. I was tired and bored with my job and my furniture, and I couldn’t see any way to change things. Only end them.

It was hopeless, life, really. It was set up all wrong.

Anxiety and Ennui are the Scylla and Charybdis on which the bark of human happiness is most often wrecked.

I DON'T CARE!" Harry yelled at them, snatching up a lunascope and throwing it into the fireplace. "I'VE HAD ENOUGH, I'VE SEEN ENOUGH, I WANT OUT, I WANT IT TO END, I DON'T CARE ANYMORE!

I know my soul hath power to know all things, Yet is she blind and ignorant in all: I know I'm one of Nature's little kings, Yet to the least and vilest things am thrall.

There can be no peace for us, only misery, and the greatest happiness.