Quotes About Anger

He hadn't finished: 'Let us bring down our righteous anger against the festering scum who by their cowardice and sloth have reduced the British Empire to a moribund thing, in peril of annihilation.' How they roared their hate!

Warren hissed

I've had it with being nice, understanding, fair and hopeful. I feel like being negative all day. The chip on my shoulder could sink the QE2. I've got an attitude problem and nobody better get in my way...I'm in a bad mood and the whole stupid little world is gonna pay!

I've had it with being nice, understanding, fair and hopeful. I feel like being negative all day. The chip on my shoulder could sink the QE2. I've got an attitude problem and nobody better get in my way...I'm in a bad mood and the whole stupid little world is gonna pay!

Don't ever for a minute make the mistake of looking down your nose at westerns. They're art - the good ones, I mean. They deal in life and sudden death and primitive struggle, and with the basic emotions - love, hate, and anger - thrown in. We'll have westerns films as long as the cameras keep turning. The fascination that the Old West has will never die. And as long as people want to pay money to see me act, I'll keep on making westerns until the day I die.

Take it for words. O woman's poor revenge, Which dwells but in the tongue!

The coroner announced heart failure as the cause of death, but William Stoner always felt that in a moment of anger and despair Sloane had willed his heart to cease, as if in a last mute gesture of love and contempt for a world that had betrayed him so profoundly that he could not endure in it.

Begone, begone, you bloody whoreson Gauls!

Anger was days of courteous silence, and love was a word of courteous endearment. She was an only child, and loneliness was one of the earliest conditions of her life.

Anger was days of courteous silence, and love was a word of courteous endearment.

That fucking cunting fuck of a whore." "Nikolas!" Nikolas shrugged. "It's only you who I don't like to hear swear.

I also visited several healing meetings... and became angry with what appeared to be the manipulation of people for the material gains of the faith healer... Dressing like sideshow barkers. Pushing people over and calling it the power of God. And money - they were always asking for more, leading people to believe that if they gave they would be healed..." - John Wimber

Sometimes, she wanted quite furiously to hurt him; now, for instance, to lean forward and snap at him: 'Why do you dye your hair? I know you do. In this light it looks utterly horrible.

apoplectic. I let them stew

May your balls rot like fruit in the sun, and your manhood wither at the root!

It never occurred to him that now he was looking at his master, at the one person in all the world who held his fate right between her palms - me, in patched hand-me-downs and untrimmed hair and idiot smile - and that my hatred for him is pure and black and unforgiving. And that I don't believe in God, but if I did, if I did, it would be the God of Moses, angry and demanding and OUT FOR REVENGE...

Raging inwardly I go on climbing, dragging my brute after me, punctuating my 'Khaidas' --come on-- with every curse I have ever known, in every language. Not yet being acquainted with Arabic, exceedingly helpful in such cases I am told, German-Swiss seems at the moment endowed with remarkable properties.

But one of the hardest things for me to do was to access anger. I could do it on stage. But when I did it on film it was hard for me. That probably has to do with the intimacy of film. And my own personal issues with expressing anger. So I had to learn how to do that.

But she has an insecure core that desperately needs to be more than a pretty face. She is accustomed to being the center of attention, and when the spotlight slides my way, she deflates, her anxieties twisting into anger that homes in on me, as if I've stolen that spotlight from her.

This gentleman had been born with angry bones.

So you try to think of someone else you're mad at, and the unavoidable answer pops into your little warped brain: everyone.

Not being the sort to throw a book, she pounded her fist on her cushion.

i was in love with the sound of the slamming door, it sounded the way i felt, like damn you to hell! and i hate what you're doing to me! and Life sucks.

Oh, nonsense," snapped Ellery, honking his klaxon. His face convulsed as he leaned out of the car and yelled to a crowding taxicab with the righteous wrath of all motor-maniacs: "What the hell d'ye think you're doing?