Quotes About Resentment

Things I hate comes with a pain.

Charles) Laughton was one of the most pugnaciously morose men I had ever met. His huge talent seemed to endorse his implacable resentment. His Caliban self-portraiture must have been further agnozied by being incarcerated, like so many of his unhappy generation, in that closet which dared not speak its name. Even his large collection of Klees and Kokoshchkas was displayed as trophies of martyrdom rather than joyful plunder.

If you hold a grudge, you doubt the Judge.

It's wonderful to be hated by idiots.

in loving relationships the absence of regularly reinforcing warm feelings automatically breeds disappointment and resentment as a by-product of frustrated expectations and desires.

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 never wanted to admit it to myself," he said with something like tranquillity, "but you really do hate me, don't you, Edith?

Jealousy is the most absurd pain of all. How one resents it! To be made to suffer in public–the public indignity, the private pain. The shock of it lays dreadful waste in one's soul; it discolors the whole world, cancels every remembrance of tenderness.

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.

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.

What makes you shiver so?" He stared at me with hatred and derision. He sat with his knees drawn up close to his chest, his gloved hands in tight fists beneath his chin. "Come," I said, and held out an arm so that he might sit against my shoulder. He muttered, "I don't want your cold." "I offer you my warmth," I said. Reluctantly, resentfully, he curled himself into the hollow between my arm and chest.

...unrequited love does not die; it's only beaten down to a secret place where it hides, curled and wounded. For some unfortunates, it turns bitter and mean, and those who come after pay the price for the hurt done by the one who came before.

The woman looked at the man, who was nursing his thumb. "I know you're still pissed about Siberia.

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

Anybody who holds grudges against anyone/any people is hateful/uncalled for. But, anyone who do forgive all and sundry wholly/wholeheartedly is loveful/called for.

Anybody who is hateful is most likely to be resentful (feeling/portraying bitterness/indignation). But the reverse is directly the case with anyone who is loveful. So, be loveful for life and never hateful.

The sense that everything is going wrong has existed in every era, and rightly so since men have found no greater pleasure than in inventing new ways to make each other miserable.

Better than anyone I am able to forgive on the spot. My desire for revenge comes late, too late, when memory of the offense is fading and when, the incitation to action having become virtually nonexistent, I have only one recourse: to deplore my 'good feelings'.

It is not misfortune but happiness—insolent happiness, it is true—which leads to rancor and sarcasm.

I gave him my heart, and he took and pinched it to death; and flung it back to me. People feel with their hearts, Ellen, and since he has destroyed mine, I have not power to feel for him.

Gazing out at the placid sea of bricky gables, at the pleasant parks and school playgrounds, I felt a pang of resentment, the same pain I remembered when my wife kissed me fondly, waved a little shyly from the door of our Chelsea apartment, and walked out on me for good. Affection could reveal itself in the most heartless moments.

"The envious die not once, but as oft as the envied win applause."

If you aren't good at loving yourself, you will have a difficult time loving anyone, since you'll resent the time and energy you give another person that you aren't even giving to yourself.

The more anger towards the past you carry in your heart, the less capable you are for loving in the present.