Quotes About Anger

But the Count! Never did I imagine such wrath and fury, even to the demons of the pit. His eyes were positively blazing. The red light in them was lurid, as if the flames of hell fire blazed behind them. His face was deathly pale, and the lines of it were hard like drawn wires.

Les joues, jusqu'ici restées colorées, devinrent livides, les yeux semblèrent jeter des étincelles venant tout droit de l'enfer, les rides qui apparurent sur le front ressemblaient aux replis des serpents de la Méduse, et la charmante bouche aux lèvres brillantes de sang s'ouvrit presque en forme de carré, comme dans ces masques grecs ou japonais qui représentent la colère.

Anger is so much easier than grief.

Why do I sense hostility on your part, Patrick?" she asks softly, then sips her wine. "Maybe because I'm hostile," I spit out. "Maybe because you sense this.

If all of your friends are morons is it a felony, a misdemeanor or an act of God if you blow their fucking heads off with a thirty-eight magnum?

And, Price adds, smiling, if another round of Bellinis comes within a twenty-foot radius of our table we are going to set the maitre d' on fire. So you know, warn him.

You are a fucking ugly bitch I want to stab to death and play around with your blood," but I'm smiling.

He wasn't, I realized when I read those scenes concerning Blair and myself, close to any of us-- except of course to Blair, and really not even to her. He was simply someone who floated through our lives and didn't seem to care how flatly he perceived everyone or that he'd shared our secret failures with the world, showcasing the youthful indifference, the gleaming nihilism, glamorizing the horror of it all. But there was no point in being angry with him.

Courtney," I warn, getting furious, "if you just said what I think you said: that your lithium is in a carton in the freezer next to the Frusen Glädjé and is a sorbet"—I'm screaming this—"if this is really what you said then I will kill you. Is it a sorbet? Is your lithium really a sorbet?

if another round of Bellinis comes within a twenty-foot radius of this table we are going to set the maître d' on fire.

I say, staring at her, quite clearly but muffled by "Pump Up the Volume" and the crowd, "You are a fucking ugly bitch I want to stab to death and play around with your blood," but I'm smiling. I

The Left had become a rage machine, burning itself up: a melting blue bubble dissolving in on itself.

Sometimes, when listening to friends of mine, I'd stare at them while a tiny voice in the back of my head started sighing, You are the biggest fucking baby I've ever fucking heard in my entire fucking life and please you've got to fucking calm the fuck down—I get it, I get it, you don't like fucking Trump but for fuck's sake enough already for fuck's sake.

Whenever I heard certain people losing their shit about Trump my first reaction was always, You need to be sedated, you need to see a shrink, you need to stop letting the "bad man" help you in the process of victimizing your whole life.

Or maybe when you're roiling in childish rage, the first thing you lose is judgment, and then comes common sense. And finally you lose your mind and along with that, your freedom.

If enough individuals are full of despair and anger in their hearts, there will be violence in the streets. If enough individuals are full of greed and fear in their hearts, there will be pollution in the rivers and toxins in the air. If enough individuals are full of supremacy and privilege in their hearts, there will be racism and oppression in society. You can't remove the external social symptoms without treating the corresponding internal personal diseases. But

Serena grew angry. How could that representative worry about petty price tags, when the ultimate cost was so much higher? "We will all pay—in blood—if we do not do this. We must strengthen the League and the human species.

Now be a dear and fuck the fuck off.

Oh, fuck you, you self-righteous piece of...BALD

Stupid old boys' network... That's why we're not running the world, huh, girlie? 'Cause when women see a younger version of us, it just makes us angry.

Save it fucker. I'm gonna slit you open and gut you like a fish and pull out your insides. I'm going to show you the black stuff inside your belly, and then I'm gonna make you eat it.

The only real antidote for anger or worry is purposeful action in the direction of your goals—which

This is why angry people are continually explaining and elaborating on the reasons for their negative feelings.

You cannot say the words "I am responsible!" and still feel angry. The very act of accepting responsibility short-circuits and cancels out any negative emotions you may be experiencing.