Quotes About Anger

He said if Maria had truly allowed herself to be overcome by anger—which she never does, because she's a good Anglo-Protestant—then she would have written all over that wall in her native English. He says all Americans are like this: repressed. Which makes them dangerous and potentially deadly when they do blow up. "A savage people," he diagnoses.

Giulio and Maria have a beautiful apartment, the most impressive feature of which is, to my mind, the wall that Maria once covered with angry curses against Giulio (scrawled in black magic marker) because they were having an argument and 'he yells louder than me' and she wanted to get a word in edgewise.

La decepción es la ira de los débiles.

But thinking about it today, I have to say that it enrages me. Arthur Watson had completely gotten away with his misdeeds and lies. Celia had been banished by Peg, and I had been banished by Edna—but Arthur had been allowed to carry on with his lovely life and his lovely wife, as though nothing had ever happened. The dirty little whores had been disposed of; the man was allowed to remain. Of course, I didn't recognize the hypocrisy back then. But Lord, I recognize it now.

Largely, now, it was not anger he felt, but rather a kind of bone-scraping, quiet, ever-present sorrow. To come to the place that was supposed to stay the same, to come and find it changed. Dr. Miller had warned him against what he called the 'geographic cure.' You can't fix yourself by going somewhere else, he'd said. You'll always take yourself along.

I'll stay as long as I'm welcome," said Ashe. "Thanks for coming; it's been nice seeing you," said Achmed. "Ignore him; he's trying to be funny, but he's not good at it," said Rhapsody, her face flushing with embarrassment and anger.

He lowered his head and beat, fists balled, teeth clenched, the roaring in his ears loud and total. He saw only Thomas's bloody face, his brother's mouth moving, saying something, perhaps pleading, and Griffin's heart swelled with gleeful rage. He'd touched her. He'd hurt her. And for that he deserved to walk upon crippled legs.

She took his length gently between her hands, her arms resting on his thighs, and looked up into his face. "I'm very, very angry with you." And she opened her mouth over him.

Dear God, what she saw in that look! How he had hidden these many years behind the guise of a simple schoolmaster, she didn't know. Anger, passion, lust, and surging hunger swirled in his stormy eyes. Emotions so stark, so strong, she didn't understand how he kept them under control. He looked as if he were about to attack her, ravish her, and conquer London and the world itself. He could've been a warrior, a statesman, a king.

Edward shot a glare at Davis that held the promise of dismemberment, mayhem, and the apocalypse.

She flew in, all fiery flashing eyes and flushed cheeks, her bosom heaving beneath black wool. She was magnificent. Tell them to let her go! Séraphine ordered him imperiously. Tell them to let her go right now . She stood over him, her lips wet, her body shaking with her rage, and he wanted to take her and roll her beneath him and fuck her into the mattress.

Never underestimate the fury of an angry mother, Caspar. They're the most vicious creatures in the world.

If my conscience had been a person at that moment, I might have strangled him.

But wield it with care, lass, do not go blasting out your fury and letting all know it was you. They fear it.

To build unity requires recognizing the central role of young activists. They are vigorously fighting the attack on this century's Reconstruction. Their anger at today's ugly society often translates into a passionate drive for unity across color lines.

I know that the delight in battle, what we soldiers think of as courage, is not essential, even to a soldier. I need not call up anger any more—and the anger I called, in Kolobia, opened the way for Achrya's evil. I know that I can, if I but ask the gods, know what is right, and do it.

Not free of pain, nor free of fear, but free of the need to react to that fear in all the old ways. She had no anger left, no hatred, no desire for vengeance, nothing but pity for those who must find such vile amusements, who had no better hope, or no courage to withdraw.

but i was young, and i got so cross. in the early days we made up easily. had fun making up, in fact.

Nothing can be more infuriating than being forgiven over and over again.

The roar of an angry crowd is one of the most terrifying sounds in the world.

spend the rest of his life nobly forgiving her. Nothing can be more infuriating than being forgiven over and over again.

I refuse to get better. I only hope that whatever pill she gives me makes me feel well enough to plot my own end, to gather the medicines or other methods of destruction in order to make this suicide a success and not just one more wimpy attempt by another hysterical girls who wants help. Because I don't want their fucking help anymore.

and if Meg or I said anything, she'd fall in a little rage, like a wet hen.

Never make a decision in anger and never make a promise in happiness.