Quotes About Anger

What do you do with your anger when the person you're mad at goes off and dies? Bury it? Bury it inside you?

but it was too late. Richard spit

Nothing he could do or say would bridge the gulf because there was nothing here to appeal to. There was nothing here but anger and fear, things in themselves entirely sterile. Divorced from the love of righteousness, the fear of God, they were nothing. There was nothing here. He had not realized before the ghastly evil of negation. He had seldom felt such evil. Nothingness was a bottomless pit...

There were times Flora wanted to slap her mother, hard. She went to make toast for everyone, not least to soak up the brandy. The plainclothes police officer who'd been assigned to them was leaning against the breakfast bar, fiddling with her mobile phone. "Would you like me to do that?" she asked, when Flora came in.

People have suggested that I have survivor's guilt. I reject that. We all should be alive. What I have is profound sadness and anger that some worthless dirtbag can come along and take away a family's bright and shining light, leaving a gaping hole that is never to be filled.

He who angers you conquers you.

Suddenly Taryn was furious. 'Why the hell are you always so careful?' 'What else should I be? Most of the good in the world is remedial. It's fixing things and caring for people. Taking care.

Some people realize that what must burn in the fire is their fear—fear of their own power, fear of change, fear of loss, fear of others. Some people name an inability to feel, a crippling cynicism, a sense of shame, a stance of anger. I

Then he asked angrily, "Instead of teasing me, why the hell didn't you tell me you had a famous, jealous maniac for a lover? I wouldn't have touched you!" Cat's eyes widened. Surprised laughter tugged at her lips as she turned to Travis. "Are you a famous, jealous maniac, Travis, er, lover ?

Is is difficult to be angry with a gentleman who pays you compliments, even impertinent compliments. Especially impertinent compliments.

People say a lot of things in anger," she said. "It is our choice whether or not to listen.

Anger can try to break your heart, but sorrow is what will. What can. What does.

When someone you love...when they die, you want it undone. You'd do anything to have them back, and it's easy to believe that if only this had happened or that had happened, everything would be fine. And that's what makes you angry. What makes you hate. You don't want to believe that sometimes bad things happen just because they do.

And that's what makes you angry. What makes you hate. You don't want to believe that sometimes bad things happen just because they do.

She has no idea who I am, not really. She's just someone who's noticed me because the video and she'll forget what she's said before the day is over. Me? Not so much, but I go on, my legs shaking and a mix of anger and despair burning inside me.

He kept talking and I thought about taking my copy of Huckleberry Finn and stuffing it in his mouth so he'd shut up.

My God, she was right. 'You never even stole that money and yet they fire you. I could just take Alva Johnson by the neck and make her eat dog shit.

You never even stole that money and yet they fire you. I could just take Alva Johnson by the neck and make her eat dog shit.

hate her. Joanne. I hate her.

Oh, she was a crazy woman, privately. Absolutely nuts. She was so mad at Jim O'Casey. She was so mad, she went into the woods and hit a tree hard enough to make her hand bleed. She cried down by the creek until she gagged.

But in Jim O'Casey there had been a wariness, a quiet anger, and she had seen herself in him, had said to him once, We're both cut from the same piece of bad cloth. He had just watched her, eating his apple.

Jim, because he was angry even back then and trying to control it, she felt, and Bob because his heart was big. She didn't care much for Susan. "Nobody did, far as I know," she said.

Behind the bored eyes of the waitresses handing out sundaes there loomed, she knew, great earnestness, great desires, and great disappointments; such confusion lay ahead for them, and (more wearisome) anger; oh, before they were through, they would blame and blame and blame, and then get tired, too.

If a few minutes of suffering could make me so angry, what would years of it do? Even a stone can be worn down with enough rain.