Man alone is born crying, lives complaining, and dies disappointed.
I went from being a hustler, working different jobs to renting rooms off Craigslist, and I just wasn't happy.
As a kid, I grew to define what I didn't want my life to be like by sitting behind moaning women on the bus, hearing them bang on about their aches and pains, both real and imagined.
I'm depressed when I don't get to do music. Having to go back to doing something I don't like and am not passionate about would be a tough thing.
Most people are living a life they don't like. They go to work where they don't want to work.
Every day starts, my eyes open and I reload the program of misery. I open my eyes, remember who I am, what I'm like, and I just go, 'Ugh'.
Dying is only one thing to be sad over... Living unhappily is something else.
I don't think anyone's life is totally wonderful, however it looks from outside.
The long days are no happier than the short ones.
I should have been deliriously happy. I had my dream come true. I'm a best-selling author. So why is everything in my life, including my writing, going bad?
The real secret of an unsatisfied life lies too often in an unsurrendered will.
I have nothing in my life besides my work. I am obsessed with it. I leave my house only when I'm forced to.
I'm not invited to any exciting parties and my life hasn't really changed.
I consider my teenage years as being desperately unhappy.
There are plenty of miserable millionaires all over the place.
