My tragic view of life... leads me to have little patience with the chronic complaining I hear in modern society from people who have so much yet act as if life and society have conspired to oppress them.
Art is apotheosis; often, the complaint of beauty.
If you choose to walk through the fire, why do you complain it's hot?
I hate to complain...No one is without difficulties, whether in high or low life, and every person knows best where their own shoe pinches.
His forward voice now is to speak well of his friend. His backward voice is to utter foul speeches and to detract.
Compared with my life Cinderella was a spoiled brat.