Quotes About Anger

I can't ask you to banish your fears, your anxiety or your anger...But don't let them use you up.

You don't get angry at the successful geniuses, you get angry at the successful mediocrities, and at the people who can't tell the fucking difference.

A woman broke up with me, and sent me pictures of her and her new boyfriend in bed together. Solution? I sent them to her dad.

I did not think that I was angry, but clearly anger was reflected in my writing. I did not think that I had been affected emotionally, but it was clear from my writing that I was still very emotional about the trial some six months after it ended.

Character isn't inherited. One builds it daily by the way one thinks and acts, thought by thought, action by action. If one lets fear or hate or anger take possession of the mind, they become self-forged chains.

I had always thought that sorrow was the most exhausting of the emotions. Now I knew that it was anger.

The Republican authorities could not initially prevent extra-judicial killing in their territory because the military coup itself had completely collapsed the police and army as the instruments of public order while it had also generated a huge surge of fear and anger. But the regime subsequently rebuilt public order – not least to put an end to murder.

I read that after denial comes grief. Or anger. Or guilt.

This was a little house, with a ceiling that kept getting higher and higher, a hot place with no windows. This was anger.

This girl had been looking on with her hair hanging over her face, only partly hiding a cruel-looking scar; her eyes shone with hatred. Not necessarily hatred of your father or of puppets or the other children, but a hatred of make-believe, which did not heal, but was only useful to the people who didn't need it.

He described the three riots he had witnessed firsthand, in three different cities. He made the anger of the poor and put-upon sound like a storm on the ground; it scorched buildings when it woke, its first touch killed.

In the Course, we do not first assume that another person really deserves our anger but then go ahead and "forgive" her anyway. Rather, we realize that our anger is based on a mistaken perception of her, and so we let that perception go. We forgive, in other words, by realizing "that there is nothing to forgive."11 This kind of forgiveness is so egoless that, in our ego-bound state, we need the help of the Holy Spirit, God's Voice in the dream, to complete it.

Today, while the wound is still hurting, or while the fury is still seething, such happy talk only makes you feel alienated from the rest of humanity. Today, what you want is for others to respect, or even better, echo resoundingly with the truth of your present experience. One

"Crimes of passion," that phrase drives me crazy. A man murdering his girlfriend is not a crime of passion. Premature ejaculation, that's a crime of passion.

Surprisingly, I felt no anger towards him. He was just Man. Man in his basic, rudimentary state, easily moved by powerful emotions like love, lust, anger, greed, and fear, but totally dumb to the finer, acquired emotions like pity, mercy, humour, and justice.

En vérité, celui qui ne connaît pas la colère ne sait rien».

Spite is anger which is afraid to show itself, it is an impotent fury conscious of its impotence.

Yo quería hacer algo atrevido y desesperado para demostrarle cuánto me enojaba lo que el mundo le había hecho. "Pero no debe ser así. Si luchas contra el mundo, te aplastará. Si eres más astuto que el mundo, te compensará". - Horowitz

You know, we are one nation under a god. Yes, you were right. An angry, crack slinging god who decorates with bullets and spent condoms.

The guy who shot him had quite a temper. Homicide had always made sense to him. He would say that there wasn't a problem in the world that couldn't be solved by shooting someone in the face. You just had to find the right person. Hell, you didn't even need to do that. Sometimes just shooting the person next to him was enough.

I turn the corner and go into the store and get what I need. The lady at the checkout asks me how I'm doing, and I know she doesn't really want to know so I don't say anything. These people always make me want to destroy.

if i was a woman these days, i'd be killing motherfuckers. my handgun would never cool and my hands would be covered in testicular blood. i would have a horrible reputation with a lot of men because i would be calling them on their weak bullshit left and right.

The poor monkey, quietly seated on the ground, seemed to be in sore trouble at this display of anger.

Never forget what a man says to you when he is angry.