Jimmy Page Quotes

And then the really awful thing is that at the end of the day after crying and experiencing things, then you look at what you've written and you're like, 'Hmm, there's half a page that's good here.' Then you throw out everything else.

I'm the kind of person who, if I can't get something right, I get quite frustrated with myself.

Boy, there are days where I get up and say 'Where the hell did my talent go? Look at this crap that I'm producing here. This is terrible. Look, I wrote this yesterday. I hate this, I hate this.'

When I make a bad play, it frustrates the heck out of me, even in practice.

I always thought I was good. That's why it was so frustrating when other people didn't agree.

I didn't want to play these people any more songs and have them say that they weren't good enough. So my response was to just not be able to write anymore. I know that's not the healthiest of responses.

There was a period where I stopped auditioning because I was like, 'I don't have the heart.' There's just so much rejection.

I'm never happy with my performance.

I never will watch a meet that I don't do well in. I just don't like to.

I used to drive myself crazy by thinking, three days later, 'Ugh, why didn't I play it like that? Ugh, now that line makes sense to me.'

I'm a very tough critic of my guitar-playing. Sometimes I don't even want to do it anymore.

I had a desperate need to be Van Gogh or something. Some tremendous artist. Jack's so successful, what's wrong with me, why isn't this working for me? I hated myself.

I've spent so long on some paintings that I no longer know what to think of them, and I am definitely getting harder to please; nothing satisfies me.

Either still I find Some imperfection in the chosen theme, Or see of absolute accomplishment Much wanting, so much wanting, in myself, That I recoil and droop, and seek repose In listlessness from vain perplexity, Unprofitably travelling towards the grave.

I have lots of ideas. Trouble is, most of them suck.

Blocks usually stem from fear of being judged. If you imagine the world is listening, you'll never write a line.

There's always people who came 600 miles to hear the song you didn't play.

The critic hates most that which he would have done himself if he had had the guts.

I feel like an inadequate machine, a machine that breaks down at crucial moments, grinds to a dreadful hault, 'won't go,' or, even worse, explodes in some innocent person's face.

I kept thinking there's bound to be something else? I could hear it sometimes, but I couldn't play it.

How my achievements mock me!

No matter how much you sit there twiddling, going, 'We're all doomed', at the end of the day people will always want to hear you play Creep. Get over it.

From the moment I start a new novel, life's just one endless torture. The first few chapters may go fairly well and I may feel there's still a chance to prove my worth, but that feeling soon disappears and every day I feel less and less satisfied.

I tried to write worse but it was no good; my generalizations came out as before, each more exquisite than the last. I grew discouraged.

I'm still afflicted with the malady of research. I don't like what I do, and I paint it out, and paint it out again. I hope this mania will come to an end... I'm like a child at school. The white page must always be evenly written and slap! bang! and there's a blot! I'm still blotting and I'm forty years old.