Quotes About Anger

I am grateful, too, to Lewis for having the courage to yell, to doubt, to kick at God with angry violence. This is part of a healthy grief not often encouraged. It is helpful indeed that C.S. Lewis, who has been such a successful apologist for Christianity, should have the courage to admit doubt about what he has so superbly proclaimed. It gives us permission to admit our own doubts, our own angers and anguishes, and to know that they are part of the soul's growth.

No, it was not anger, it was loathing; it was hatred, sheer and unadulterated, and as she became lost in hatred she also began to be lost in IT.

It's better to take it out on God. He can cope with all our angers. That's one thing my long span of chronology has taught me. If I take all my anger, if I take all my bitterness over the unfairness of this mortal life, and throw it all to God, he can take it all and transform it into love before he gives it back to me.

Meg stamped, loudly and angrily, against the hard, cold surface of the rock.

Anger is not bitterness. Bitterness can go on eating at a man's heart and mind forever. Anger spends itself in its own time.

I've gone out alone and bellowed in rage at God at the top of my lungs. But the fact that I bellow at him I suppose proves that I think he's there, doesn't it? Go ahead and be mad at God if you feel like it, Vicky. [...] But remember when you're yelling at God, what you're doing is saying, Do it MY way, God, not YOUR way, but MY way

Until bitterness ans self-pity and anger are gone... the belief was that healing was not possible until the spirit was cleansed.

Mercy. It didn't mean that everything was okay, could or should be condoned. But we can't move out of ourselves and our own self-justifications until we look in the mirror and know, yes, I, too, could have done this. Or worse. My anger at my mother. At Mama for telling me things I don't want to know.

You've been angry all week, Simon, but you're taking it out on the wrong things. It's better to take it out on God. He can cope with all our angers. That's one thing my long span of chronology has taught me. If I take all my anger, if I take all my bitterness over the unfairness of this mortal life, and throw it all to God, he can take it all and transform it into love before he gives it back to me.

It's all right, Meg assured the Medium earnestly. Truly it is, Mrs. Medium, and we thank you very much. Are you sure? the Medium asked, brightening. Of course! It really helped me ever so much because it made me mad, and when I'm mad I don't have room to be scared.

The rage she felt was a real thing, you could almost take it out of her and see it, like a red mist.

But there it was again. His face, handsome, petulant, impatient, the way he was when he didn't get what he wanted. 'Get out of here, Louis,' she said aloud. 'I've nothing to lose now,' Louis said. 'I'll bring you down with me, you'll be sorry you didn't listen to me. I've nothing to lose.' There was a huge truck. The lights of a truck and a terrible shattering of glass and … Then there was nothing.

You know, in order to make somebody laugh, you have to be interesting, and in order to be interesting, you have to do things that are mean. Comedy comes out of anger, and interesting comes out of angry; otherwise there is no conflict. But he was able to be mean and you forgave him, and you have to be able to forgive somebody, because at the end of the day, you still have to be with him, even after he's dumped the girl or made some choices that you don't agree with.

In order to make somebody laugh, you have to be interesting, and in order to be interesting, you have to do things that are mean. Comedy comes out of anger, and interesting comes out of angry; otherwise there is no conflict.

of frustration and resentment that accompany interpersonal and intergroup conflict.

Sometimes anger pave the path of success.

Sympathy is something that shouldn't be bestowed on the Yankees. Apparently it angers them.

She didn't understand people who thrived on argument and being right all the time. Her mother was that way, and what did that get her? Nothing but unhappiness, dissatisfaction, and anger.

I hate rarely, though when I hate, I hate murderously.

When human pain has struck me fiercely, when anger has corroded me, I rise, I always rise after the crucifixion, and I am in terror of my ascensions. THE FISSURE IN REALITY. The divine departure. I fall. I fall into darkness after the collusion with pain, and after pain the divine departure.

He was whispering over and over again the same phrase, "You have the body of an angel. It is impossible that such a body should have a sex. You have the body of an angel." The anger swept over Fay like a fever, an anger at his moving his penis away from her hand. She sat up, her hair wild about her shoulders, and said, "I am not an angel, Albert. I am a woman. I want you to love me as a woman.

I get furious at stairways, furious at doors, at walls, furious at everyday life which interferes with the continuity of ecstasy.

I am angry at my own sentimental weakness. I feel at certain moments a bottomless giving, an indifference to how much is taken away, but at times I have rebellions and my possessive instinct is aroused and then I am angry at myself, furious (the scorpion eats it own tail).

I share with Henry an anger not at the imperfection of women, but at the foulness of living itself.