“Like so many creative men of his school he was hounded by an incessant”
restlessness.“Like so many creative men of his school he was hounded by an incessant”
restlessness.“There is nothing quite like this novel with its rage and ragings, its discontent and angry restlessness. Wuthering Heights is a virgin's story.”
Elizabeth Hardwick, Seduction and Betrayal: Women and Literature“Now, back in the reality that always lies in wait among the shadows of the Ensanche quarter, the enchantment was lifting, and all I had was painful desire and an indescribable restlessness.”
Carlos Ruiz Zafón“Discharge [disposal of karma] is in nature’s hands. That’s why there is restlessness. That is why these are the pains of dependency [association]. There are such times man has to face that it becomes difficult for him to pass even one hour.”
Dada Bhagwan“May the economic discrimination you impose on your own people bloat your mind. That polluted rubbish occupyingyour mind-set needs to be swept clean. May the disgusted look you impose on those you judge poor burn your eyes.That evil look occupying your clear vision needs to land in the bin. May that shameful attitude you impose on those you wish to feel lesser bring your soul to restlessness. That fake character you display needs to be thrown out of the window.”
Gloria D. Gonsalves, The Wisdom Huntress: Anthology of Thoughts and Narrations“Grace strikes us when we are in great pain and restlessness. It strikes us when we walk through the dark valley of a meaningless and empty life. It strikes us when our disgust for our own being, our indifference, our weakness, our hostility, and our lack of direction and composure have become intolerable to us. It strikes us when, year after year, the longed-for perfection of life does not appear, when the old compulsions reign within us as they have for decades, when despair destroys all joy and courage. Sometimes at that moment a wave of light breaks into our darkness, and it is as though a voice were saying: “You are accepted.”
Paul Tillich“She sighed, annoyed at her restlessness. “So,” she said, disrupting Wolf in another backward glance.“Who would win in a fight—you or a pack of wolves?”He frowned at her, all seriousness. “Depends,” he said, slowly, like he was trying to figure out her motive for asking. “How big is the pack?”“I don’t know, what’s normal? Six?”“I could win against six,” he said. “Any more than that and it could be a close call.”Scarlet smirked. “You’re not in danger of low self-esteem, at least.”“What do you mean?”“Nothing at all.” She kicked a stone from their path. “How about you and … a lion?”“A cat? Don’t insult me.”She laughed, the sound sharp and surprising. “How about a bear?”“Why, do you see one out there?”“Not yet, but I want to be prepared in case I have to rescue you.”The smile she’d been waiting for warmed his face, a glint of white teeth flashing. “I’m not sure. I’ve never had to fight a bear before.”
Marissa Meyer, Scarlet