Maturity is the ability to reap without apology and not complain when things don't go well.
It is the incompetent and the neglected artist who charges the public with ignorance, stupidity, and indifference. He raves loudly, but he is incomprehensible, even inarticulate, in his work.
We have been mysteriously gifted this amazing life. Let us not complain.
I am not disposed to complain that I have planted and others have gathered the fruits.
Life, I've got lots of friends. I don't complain.
Just because nobody complains doesn't mean all parachutes are perfect.
In your cocoon, occasionally you shout complaints, such as, "Leave me alone!" "Bug off!" "I want to be who I am!"... which comes from fighting against your environment... You can raise your head and just take a little peek out of the cocoon... The environment is friendly. It is called "Planet Earth.
No one's ever happy with their position in Hollywood. You hear that from people you'd never dream would complain.
I am against: general ideas / the nude / the appropriation of images / the mystification of the untitled / the glorification of artistic doubt / the fuzzy edges of sensitivity / old sins / and useless guilt.
When you've fallen on the highway / and you're lying in the rain, / and they ask you how you're doing / of course you'll say you can't complain.
When complaints are freely heard, deeply considered and speedily reformed, then is the utmost bound of civil liberty attained that wise men look for.
I have a very good life, so I have nothing to complain about. Sometimes, I just have existential angst.
Light sufferings give us leisure to complain.
Raising the standard of the work, not complaining about somebody not voting.
Don't, for goodness' sake, keep on saying 'Don't'; I hear so much of it, and it's monotonous, and makes me tired.
We are always complaining that our days are few, and acting as though there would be no end to them.
Complaint is. more contemptible than pitiful.
We have first raised a dust and then complain we cannot see.
I think that the insane desire one has sometimes to bang and kick grumblers and peevish persons is a Divine instinct.
I must be getting absent-minded. Whenever I complain that things aren't what they used to be, I always forget to include myself.
I was complaining that I had no shoes till I met a man who had no feet.
Don’t complain about the snow on your neighbor’s roof when your own doorstep is unclean.
Those who make the worst use of their time are the first to complain of its shortness.
Somebody did complain to me and tell me that my clothes were so loud they couldn't hear me sing.
If ordinary people complain that I speak too much of myself, I complain that they do not even think of themselves.
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