Boris Becker Quotes

The chaos of my life has a lot to do with my hair.

Sometimes that's all life is... One desperate act after another.

I certainly wouldn't say that my life is a disaster, but there have been moments where I've felt like that.

When we got knocked out against Porto in the Champions League, I only slept two hours that night. I was not a nice person to be with after that match. I was struggling to get the result out of my system.

It's unresolved conflict in my life that I have a lovely family and a risky job.

My father's death, my move, and my frightening and difficult delivery created a tremendous amount of stress, pain, and sadness for me. I was practically devastated beyond recovery.

When my family fell apart, it was such a troubled part of my life... I think I could understand what I was going through, but I didn't have the vocabulary for it.

In one day, I have times where I'm feeling great, I feel like I love my life, and then 2:30 rolls around and I'm the angriest man alive. My wife sees it.

I went through a divorce right as we were starting the show. My divorce became final right after we started shooting the first year, and during that time I was in such a low place.

The second album was emotionally exhausting and my life felt like it had become very serious at a very young age.

To me, nothing is more fascinating or theatrical than real life. These people are in dire situations, where something extreme has happened in their lives.

Why was I feeling this way? Why was everything so bad in my life? I had no answers to these questions.

My twenties were the worst period of my life.

1967 was the bleakest, darkest, most emotional period of my life.

Everyone can have a rough day at the office, as they say. I've had those myself many times when the bell rings.

Sometimes I feel I don't know even know how to run.

Most of the world was mad. And the part that wasn't mad was angry. And the part that wasn't mad or angry was just stupid. I had no chance. I had no choice. Just hang on and wait for the end. It was hard work. It was the hardest work imaginable.

I'm sitting in my office trying to squeeze a story from my head. It is that kind of morning when you feel like melting the typewriter into a bar of steel and clubbing yourself to death with it. (“Advance Notice”)

You know what? I was wrong. You are an idiot. My life happens to, on occasion, suck beyond the telling of it. Sometimes more than I can handle.

At a certain stage of misery, you'll try anything to explain what's going on with you, even if you know it doesn't explain a thing and it's one failed explanation after another.

Life is a long headache in a noisy street.

I guess I don't really know what I want to do, either. Sometimes I feel like a shook-up bottle of soda. Like, I have all this passion that wants to explode, but I don't know where to aim it yet.

There was a lot of sorrow in [Johnny] Cash's life. Even while he's trying to make music to inspire people he's fighting day after day with his own demons and sorrows.

When our life is a continuous trial, the moments of respite seem only to substitute the heaviness of dread for the heaviness of actual suffering; the curtain of cloud seems parted an instant only that we may measure all its horror as it hangs low, black, and imminent, in contrast with the transient brightness; the waterdrops that visit the parched lips in the desert bear with them only the keen imagination of thirst.

If you're having a bad day already and everybody is just asking you petty questions, it drives people to the edge, or something really small will have a really large effect.