"I'm sorry! I really am! I wanted to get out of this place! I want to live! I want to get away from here and never see it again! I hate everything about it!"

"You will hate the next place, too," I said. "What you are you will carry with you."

He that is discontented in one place will seldom be happy in another.

[Henry] Life is a kind of exile and we all long to go home. Who said that?

I didn't move to the city
The city moved to me
And I want out desperately.

He yearned to step out of his life the way one steps out of a house into the street.

One must leave home if he is to find home

Possibly a man who hates the land should dwell on shore forever. Alienation and the long voyages at sea will compel him once again to dream of it, torment him with the absurdity of longing for something that he loathes.

His yearning for new and faraway places, his desire for freedom, relief and oblivion was as he admitted to himself, an urge to flee-an urge to get away from his work, from the everyday site of a cold, rigid, and passionate servitude.

I want to leave, to go somewhere where I should be really in my place, where I would fit in . . . but my place is nowhere; I am unwanted.

It is awful to want to go away and to want to go nowhere.

What absurd victims of contrary desires we are! If a man is settled in one place he yearns to wander; when he wanders he yearns to have a home. And yet how bestial is content — all the great things in life are done by discontented people.

Can you imagine how it is, to want to be neither inside nor outside, to want to be nowhere and disappear?

I am not your dear; I cannot lie down: send me to school soon, Mrs. Reed, for I hate to live here.

The unhappy are egoistic, spiteful, unjust, cruel, and less capable of understanding each other than fools. Unhappiness does not bring people together but draws them apart, and even where one would fancy people should be united by the similarity of their sorrow, far more injustice and cruelty is generated than in comparatively placid surroundings.