Quotes About Anger

Throwing things near her but not exactly at her. I'm sure he told himself: I never hit her. I'm sure because of this technicality he never saw himself as an abuser. But he turned our family life into an endless road trip with bad directions and a rage-clenched driver, a vacation that never got a chance to be fun. Don't make me turn this car around. Please, really, turn it around.

She talked to me because we had the same chemicals in our blood: shame, anger, greed. Unjustified nostalgia. I

You fucking bitch you fucking bitch you fucking bitch. Come home so I can kill you.

It's probably why I was so hateful to her, she kept me from what I wanted the most.

He never beat her, but his pure, inarticulate fury would fill the house for days, weeks, at a time, making the air humid, hard to breathe, my father stalking around with his lower jaw jutting out, giving him the look of a wounded, vengeful boxer, grinding his teeth so loud you could hear it across the room.

What possessed you to do such a thing?' which was prim for Diane, but filled with more hurt than three dozen fuck yous.

I know I am going to be angry – that quick inhale, the lips going tight, the shoulders up, the I so don't want to be mad but I'm going to be feeling.

I got secretly furious, spent ten minutes just winding myself up—because at this point of our marriage, I was so used to being angry with her, it felt almost enjoyable, like gnawing on a cuticle: You know you should stop, that it doesn't really feel as good as you think, but you can't quit grinding away.

The whole book made me want to punch Amy right in her stupid, spotless vagina

because at this point of our marriage, I was so used to being angry with her, it felt almost enjoyable, like gnawing on a cuticle: You know you should stop, that it doesn't really feel as good as you think, but you can't quit grinding away.

Pero no lo dije en voz alta; a menudo no digo las cosas en voz alta, ni siquiera cuando debería. Contengo y compartimiento hasta un extremo preocupante: en el sótano de mi vientre hay cientos de botellas llenas de ira, desespero, temor, pero uno nunca lo adivinaría al verme.

I have a meanness inside me, real as an organ. Slit me at my belly and it might slide out, meaty and dark, drop on the floor so you could stomp on it. It's the Day blood. Something's wrong with it.

y sé que me voy enfadar: esa sensación de inhalación rápida, labios que se tensan, hombros que se alzan; esa sensación de <>. ¿Es que los hombres no conocen esa sensación? No quieres enfadarte, pero te ves obligada a ello, prácticamente. Porque una regla, una buena regla, una regla agradable, ésta siendo quebrantada.

But in a way, Libby, this presents you with a really interesting new phase of your life. I mean, what do you want to be when you grow up?" I could tell this was supposed to be charming, but it brought a burst of rage up in me. I didn't want to be anything, that was the fucking point.

rage, despair, fear, but you'd never guess from looking at me.

I feel my father's rage rise up in me in the ugliest way.

I know I'm a hateful creature.

estaba tan acostumbrado a estar enfadado con ella que casi me parecía algo disfrutable, como mordisquear un padrastro: sabes que deberías parar, que tan poco es tan agradable como te parece, pero no puedes dejar de hacerlo.

Jeez, wait, don't get bent out of shape." But I was born bent out of shape. I could picture myself coming out of the womb crooked and wrong. It never takes much for me to lose patience. The phrase fuck you may not rest on the tip of my tongue, but it's near. Midtongue. I

He killed my soul, which should be a crime.

That's what I did, though—I had angry, defensive conversations in my head, got mad at things that hadn't even happened yet. Yet. I

The Day women were the definition of mob mentality. And here they were on a farm with plenty of pitchforks.

January was the season for house robberies and violence. Christmas was over, and the new year just reminded you of how little your life had changed, and man, people got angry in January. So

I have a face you want to punch: