Quotes About Anger

All through life I've harbored anger rather than expressed it at the moment.

solace in their shared anger, grief, and guilt. Years later, as a professor, Martin would try to find the words to articulate the power of togetherness in a world where togetherness had been corrupted—and to explore the effect of the music

Damn you!" he reviled her, "damn you for your physical charms!

Be as pissed off as you want to be. Don't hold back because you think it's unladylike or some such nonsense. We shouldn't be shamed out of our anger. We should be using it. Using it to make change in our own lives, and using it to make change in the lives around us. (I know, I'm cheesy.) So the next time someone calls you emotional, or asks if you're PMSing, call them on their bullshit.

These days when we speak of politics at all it is with indifference, anger, or "Please, could we talk about something that doesn't make us nauseous?" But there was a time when we could discuss government with hope, pride, and trust in our leaders, and that was when Corazon Aquino was president.

Vom Mut Ich möchte an dieser Stelle ein bisschen über den Mut reden. Anton hat eben einem Jungen, der größer ist als er, zwei Ohrfeigen gegeben. Und da könnte man ja nun meinen, Anton habe Mut bewiesen. Es war aber gar nicht Mut, es war Wut. Und das ist ein kleiner Unterschied, nicht nur im Anfangsbuchstaben. Mut kann man nur haben, während man kaltes Blut hat. [...] Mut beweist man nicht mit der Faust allein, man braucht den Kopf dazu.

My rage outweighs my shame, as always happens when one is really ashamed and knows he ought to be.

Naids ir k? sk?be, kas saÄ"d dvÄ"­seli, vienalga, vai ienÄ«sti pats, vai arÄ« tevi ienÄ«st.

We have become wild beasts. We do not fight, we defend ourselves against annihilation. It is not against men that we fling our bombs, what do we know of men in this moment when Death is hunting us down—now, for the first time in three days we can see his face, now for the first time in three days we can oppose him; we feel a mad anger. No longer do we lie helpless, waiting on the scaffold, we can destroy and kill, to save ourselves, to save ourselves and to be revenged. ==========

Haie looked round once again and said wrathfully, satisfied and rather mysteriously: "Revenge is black-pudding.

Tu trouves ça normal, Scrofa, d'habiter un monde où c'est la colère qui te rend vivant ?

The meeting did succeed, however, in searing into the minds of several French officers a singular image: that of Churchill, angered by the French failure to prepare his afternoon bath, bursting through a set of double doors wearing a red kimono and a white belt, exclaiming, "Uh ay ma bain?"—his French version of the question "Where is my bath?" One witness reported that in his fury he looked like "an angry Japanese genie.

Nor could one have imagined that such a terroristic performance as that of June 30 would have been permitted in modern times." Dodd continued to hope that the murders would so outrage the German public that the regime would fall, but as the days passed he saw no evidence of any such outpouring of anger. Even the army had stood by, despite the murder of two of its generals.

He died angry," Chalmers said, "because I didn't believe him. Even in death he is emphatic and imperious.

Damn those bloody Huns for breaking up an enjoyable party.

Fights don't solve matters, they just make things worse. (Diary 19)

arms weren't flabby. He never used to yell at

Anger was washed away in the river along with any obligation.

Augustin stood there looking down at him and cursed him speaking slowly clearly bitterly and contemptuously and cursing as steadily as though he were dumping manure on a field lifting it with a dung fork out of a wagon.

Oh, go to hell. He stood up from the table his face white, and stood there white and angry behind the little plates of hors d' Å"uvres. Sit down, I said. Don't be a fool. You've got to take that back. Oh, cut out the prep-school stuff. Take it back. Sure. Anything. I never heard of Brett Ashley. How's that? No. Not that. About me going to hell. Oh, don't go to hell, I said. Stick around. We're just starting lunch.

Harry looked at him and you could see the murder come in his face. ... Harry didn't say anything, but you could see the killing go out of his face and his eyes came open natural again.

The anger and the emptiness and the hate that had come with the let-down after the bridge, when he had looked up from where he had lain and crouching, seen Anselmo dead, were still all through him. In him, too, was despair from the sorrow that soldiers turn to hatred in order that they may continue to be soldiers. Now it was over he was lonely, detached and unrelated and he hated every one he saw.

She was angry at Ezra Pound because he had sat down too quickly on a small, fragile and, doubtless, uncomfortable chair, that it is quite possible he had been given on purpose, and had either cracked or broken it. That he was a great poet and a gentle and generous man and could have accommodated himself in a normal-size chair was not considered.

and with the pain the horror had gone and all he felt now was a great tiredness and anger that this was the end of it. For this, that now was coming, he had very little curiosity. For years it had obsessed him; but now it meant nothing in itself. It was strange how easy being tired enough made it.