“The cold stars shone in mockery, and the bare trees waved their branches above me; now and then the sweet voice of a bird burst forth amidst the universal stillness. All, save I, were at rest or in enjoyment; I, like the arch-fiend, bore a hell within me, and finding myself unsympathized with, wished to tear up the trees, spread havoc and destruction around me, and then to have sat down and enjoyed the ruin.”
– Mary Shelley
Frankenstein, Chapter 16, The monster to Victor. The monster is frustrated with his inability to find even the slightest happiness. He envies everything and everyone that has peace and contentment, while he suffers hell.