“When I was a kid, we sat around the house. If I got bored, I’d have to figure out something to do.”

It’s in my wheelhouse to be creepy, as a person.

The one thing I did know – because I’ve seen many, many of the road trip movies that everyone thinks about – is that death to a road trip movie happens when you spend too much time in the car.

I’m not much of a joke writer.

In the family of continents, Africa is the silent, the brooding sister, courted for centuries by knight-errant empires – rejecting them one by one and severally, because she is too sage and a little bored with the importunity of it all.

I got quite bored, serving in the bar. Since I was there, the customers wouldn’t talk about women, and with half their subject matter denied them, it was: horses, silence; horses, silence.

Conclusion 2: There’s nothing more demonic than two bored twins. ~Signed Tamaki

I mused for a few moments on the question of which was worse, to lead a life so boring that you are easily enchanted, or a life so full of stimulus that you are easily bored.

Texting is addicting. Once you get emotionally involved with constant outside stimulation assaulting your brain, it is hard to stop looking at your machine every two minutes. Without rapid fire words appearing on a screen, you feel bored, not part of the action.

I mean, if I was living to please people, I’d have never been in a band at all. I wouldn’t have anything awesome around. I’d just be bored.

I guess when I’m frightened or in pain or maybe very bored I’ve tried to hold myself together by imposing a narrative order on the experience as it happens.

I still love what I do and I’ve done OK over the years … You’re a long time retired and anyway, I’d get bored.